Innocent, Confused, and Ordinary
by PeaceLoveBrittana
Summary: My life was defined by the people in it. Puck was the only friend I could count on and Quinn was, without a doubt, the love of my life. Meeting them was a life-changing moment. I wonder if meeting Brittany was going to become one of those moment. Brittana
1. Innocent, Confused, Ordinary

**Innocent**

I wasn't always this way. I still remember being the outsider, the girl that everyone loved to talk about. Nobody likes people that are different. As much as I pride myself for not being like them, sometimes, I wish I truly were. Not because I hate who I am, I just wish people would stop judging me for not conforming to their own narrow-minded views. Everyone is so busy trying to "figure me out." It's obnoxious. I don't really know how to tell people that my personality is not a math equation. You don't add up all my past experiences in order to figure out why I am the way that I am. I simply just am. Truthfully, I am not all that different from everyone else. I've simply just learned to accept things the way they are. Sometimes, questioning everything can drive a person insane.

I'm over thinking everything way too much. I only do this when I'm feeling weak or vulnerable. I just want to help her. But I feel like my carefree attitude is only making her crazier. I can't get her words out of my head. _"Stop trying to help me. Don't you get it? People don't see the world the way you do. Things will never just be OK." _People don't see the world the way I do. I wonder if she really meant people or just herself. I don't know what to do. I've never felt so hopeless before in my life.

These past few months, I learned so much about myself. I never thought one person could hold such an influence over another, but it happened. I fell in love for the first time in my life. It's not as poetic as it is in the movies though. It wasn't love at first site and I only realized I was in love until she was gone, as cliché as it may sound.

Sometimes, I feel a bit obsessive. I have to actively stop my brain from thinking about her. Is that really what love is all about? _Obsession_. When I take a step back and breathe, I see much more clearly. Love is not a drug and I'm not addicted. In the end, I love her because I want her to be happy. It's truly the one thing that would have made me happy, to see a smile on her face. It's why I think about her so much. She's so lonely and fragile. I can't stop thinking of a new way to try and help her. I just want to save her, but her life is so screwed up I don't know if happiness is even a viable option. Sometimes I wonder if she was put in my path for a reason. Was she a test? Was she there to remind me how wonderful my life is?

Everyone keeps telling me I'm better off. "_She's too fragile. Her problems are only going to get in the way of your life." _ For some reason though, I just don't feel the same way. Fragile or not, my life became instantly better the moment that girl walked right into it.

* * *

><p><strong>Confused<strong>

I love her. I've realized that much despite my desperation to prove otherwise. I'm scared all the time and I'm not entirely sure what exactly it is that I'm afraid of. She loves me back. She has to. We've been together for what seems like forever at this point. She's put up with all of my bullshit and has never once asked anything from me. Well at least not until _she_ showed up. But, before all that, she had been so perfect and patient. I fell in love with her even more because of it. Why am I still so scared then? I don't think I even know what it feels like to not be so damn afraid all the time.

I don't want to lose her. I can't. Without her, I don't know what I'd do. Probably kill myself. Or not. Ironically, I'm too much of a coward to actually go through the act of "offing" myself. I'm too much of a coward to do anything, really.

But what can I do? If I admit to her what I've been hiding all this time, what I've been so afraid to admit, would it finally all be ok? Would she finally take me back?

Why am I so selfish? How can I ask her, so wonderful and special, to take me back? I've done nothing but drag her down the entire time we were together, always asking her to keep us a secret and making her think that a secret was all we could be. She always wanted more and she had every right to want more. I just can't believe I made her feel guilty for wanting what she wanted. Like what we were doing was a sin. Love is not a sin. It's beautiful, just like she is.

Why can't I just go ahead and say it. I've said it in my head so many times. The truth is that I want what you want. I've always wanted it. I want us to grow old together. I want to wake up every morning with you right next to me. I'll take the boys to Karate class and you take the girls to Cheer practice. I want to fight with you because I want the kids to go to Private school, even though you hate the idea of it. You don't want our kids to be as stuck up as I am. I want to buy you roses every year on our anniversary, even though you say you hate romance. I want it all with you. The fights, the laughs, the tears, the make up sex. Truth is, as long as I have you, everything else will fall right into place.

I don't want to lose you. I can't.

* * *

><p><strong>Ordinary<strong>

What I wouldn't give to have a day free of complications. As if school wasn't bad enough, I have to somehow make sense of all the bullshit that's been happening.

I love her, but I don't know if she loves me. When I'm with her, it feels so right, but she's hiding. She's always hiding and I'm sick of her hiding. It just makes everything harder and confusing. I just wish I had even the tiniest glimpse into her thoughts. It would put me somewhat at ease. If she didn't care about me, we wouldn't have kept up this sham for so long. Yet, after all this time, she still can't seem to refer to me as anything other than a friend. As if friends do what we do.

Why can't she just spare me and tell me how she truly feels? The more I think about this situation, the more insane I feel. I'm sick of feeling crazy and overanalyzing every part of our relationship. Was that a friendly hug, or were there other implications? And my necklace with a heart? Was it really just a birthday gift, or is this her way of telling me she loves me.

I just want an ordinary relationship. I just want to be able to hold someone's hand at the movies. I want to buy cheesy cards on Valentines Day, and to cook someone one of the 4 meals I even know how to make. Why can't I have an ordinary life with an ordinary relationship? Why do I need all of these complications? What's the point?

I keep asking myself the same questions over and over again, yet somehow I don't seem to get anywhere. I just need to go for a walk and clear my head. Maybe I can call… No. I can't. Every time I call her, I feel like I'm cheating. Can it be cheating when I'm not actually in a relationship? I don't understand why I feel so guilty when I'm with her, it's not like my sexual rendezvous is going to turn into anything more than just sex. I'm single. I can call and hang out with whomever I want. I shouldn't feel guilty about anything. Besides, hanging out with her always makes everything better. She's so good at taking my mind off of all the drama and I actually feel normal when I'm around her. _"But normal is so boring. Why would you want to be normal? You're so much cooler than that." _I grin every time I think about her calling me boring. She's honestly the first _real_ friend I've ever had. Sure, I've had plenty of "friends" before, but none of them seem to get me the way she does. She's always so sweet and seems to know exactly what to say in order to make me feel better. She never misses a beat honestly. She say's that I'll be ok, but I'm not so sure I ever will be. My "relationship" has never been easy; in fact, the complications seem to just grow exponentially.

"_You'll be ok. I promise."_ God, I hope she's right.


	2. Pretty Girl

**a/n: So I've had this idea for a story for a really really long time now. I'm not much of a writer so I never really planned on going anywhere with it. Suddenly i thought, why the hell not. The first couple of chapters will be a little short. They will get longer as we move along.  
><strong>

**The previous three "chapters" were just little glimpses into future POVs. It'll all make more sense as the story unfolds.**

** Brittana is the main goal here, but keep in mind that Quinn is heavily featured. I'm not entirely sure how much Quinntana I will include, but the Quinntana relationship is essential to the story. **

**Sadly, i do not own Glee or any of these characters. Enjoy.  
><strong>

**Chapter 1**

I'm starting to regret becoming a TA for this class. Why did I let Schuester talk me into it?

"_But, professor, I'm still just an undergrad. How can you expect kids to be ok with me teaching them?" His offer sounds great, but I'm still a little skeptical. There were far more people qualified for the job. I didn't get why he and Ms. Pillsbury were so eager for me to be a TA for this class. I wasn't exactly the brightest, especially not when it came to women's studies._

"_All you will be doing is grading their papers. I think your comments and critiques would really help these kids. Brittany, Ms. Pillsbury and I think your unique perspective would be a breath of fresh air," and there it was. I honestly didn't know if I should be insulted or flattered. They wanted me as a TA precisely because I was so weird. At least he called me "unique." I'm so sick of people calling me naïve._

Little did I know, this class was going to be the death of me. Grading all these papers, I suddenly understood why almost every professor here at NYU hated undergrads, especially the freshmen. It was because they were all, for lack of a better word, stupid. Sure, most of these kids weren't interested in women's studies; they just wanted an easy A. Too bad Schuester hired me as their TA, because I sure as hell was not going to simply give them A's. These kids had to earn it.

_Noah, you are generalizing. You can't simply call all women emotional. It would be like me calling all men stupid. _Which clearly, they were.

_Next time, try and judge these characters based on their actions, not on some pre conceived notions that all women are fragile. C+_

A part of me wanted to give him an A just so I wouldn't have to deal with his obnoxious emails about how my grading was "unfair." In reality, he probably deserved a lower grade. His paper was just so bad I kept tuning out in the middle of every single paragraph. A C+ was a gift really.

I go to grab another paper from the stack and I realize that there aren't any left. I can't believe it. I'm actually done. The part that kills me isn't that I actually took 2 days to grade all of these, it's the fact that out of 60+ papers, I was only able to give one A. I had been reading pages and pages on end, and while some kids made decent points without ever really expanding upon them, the majority of these papers were extremely insulting. I pray these kids never go into politics. They would have single handedly send the feminist movement back 100 years if given the chance. I finally got excited about this class and having become a TA in the first place when I reached this paper though. It was brilliantly written and this girl had such a firm grasp on the paper and all the concepts Schuester had expanded upon in class. You could tell she really cared about the material. I guess I should be grateful at least 1 out of 60 kids tried.

* * *

><p>"Don't forget to grab your papers before you leave."<p>

"Professor, if we have questions about our grades, who do we talk to?" I turned my head as soon as I heard it. I hope to god that Schuester doesn't send them all kicking screaming my way. I needed at least a day before I explained to these kids just how terrible their writing really is.

"Brittany is the grader for this course. The days I give lecture is not the time to discuss grades though. If you have any questions, be sure to send her an email or you can go to her office hours. Her information is on the syllabus. Have a good weekend guys." If I didn't know any better, I'd say Schuester really hated these kids as much as I did. He couldn't seem to get out of class fast enough.

"Excuse me. Miss Pierce." I cringed when I heard it. I wasn't entirely sure if its because she managed to make me sound like an old lady with the way she called me Miss Pierce, or if it was because she was probably going to cry to me about her grade. Didn't Schuester just tell them to leave me alone? Sometimes I wish he had more authority over his kids. He's too nice to actually get them to follow anything he says. When I turn to look, I suddenly feel at ease, no longer annoyed. This girl had the prettiest smile I had ever seen. Suddenly, I was in the best mood I had been in since class had first started an hour ago.

"Please call me Brittany. Miss Pierce makes me feel like a grandma. Which I am most definitely not. I'd need to have kids first, and kids are a long ways away. Unless, I have a slip up. Then by all means, call me Miss Pierce," I look down at my feet, realizing how ridiculous I sound. I normally don't care, but the way she was looking at me with that perfect smile, I started to feel a little shy. It's odd because I'm never shy about anything. I look up, half expecting her to now have this bewildered look plastered across her face, but instead she still has that same smile she did when she walked up to me. I think it actually grew wider.

"Ok. Brittany. I wanted to ask you about my paper…" and suddenly I was annoyed all over again. She was here to beg for a better grade. Maybe she should have put some effort into her paper, maybe then I would have given her the A she wanted. A pretty girl with lame opinions. What a shame.

"Like Schuester said, if you had any questions about your grade, feel free to send me an email or come to my office hours. Although, I should probably tell you this now so you don't waste your time, I don't have any plans to change any of the grades. You can try to make a case all you want, but I'm pretty firm in my decisions." I start packing up my bag, trying to make a point that I wasn't really in the mood to listen to unwarranted complaints. They got the grades they deserved. Maybe I was being a little rude, but I was really wound up. If these kids spent half as much time on their papers as they do complaining, their grades wouldn't be so bad.

"Actually, I can't actually talk to you about my grade because I haven't actually gotten one yet." I look up at her, slightly confused.

"What do you mean you haven't gotten a grade?" How could she not have a grade, I had graded all the papers that were turned in. "Maybe you just never bothered to turn one in on time? Any late work is taken up with Schuester." My patience was running thin. This class was really taking a toll on me.

"I turned mine in on time. I was hoping that maybe you just forgot to set it in the pile with the rest of the papers." It was obvious this girl was just making up excuses. I graded all the papers and set them all on Schuester's desk at the beginning of class. Well all the papers except for one. I had kept the paper of the sole A I had given. I wanted to talk to the girl about her paper since I was so fascinated by it.

"I'm sorry, what's your name?"

"Santana. Santana Lopez."

A pretty girl with thoughtful ideas. I had never been more impressed.


	3. Super, Magic Smile

**Chapter 2**

"Hey Britt, are you gonna join us for dinner now, or should I just save you a plate?"

I looked up from my book, realizing I had zoned out. For how long? I'm not entirely sure.

"Just save me a plate Kurt, I have too much reading left," I say, giving him an apologetic look. I hate when I'm too busy to have dinner with them. I feel like a bad roommate. Well, actually I just feel bad for Kurt. Rachel is always so busy rehearsing I sometimes forget she's our third roommate.

I look back down to my book and realize I haven't turned the page in at least 20 minutes. I keep getting distracted, thinking back to the lunch I had earlier. For some reason, I couldn't get Santana Lopez out of my head..

"_Ahhh… so you're the great Santana Lopez."_

"_Great? What do you mean?"_

_I laugh, realizing this girl probably thinks I'm a psycho based on how cryptic I am. I go to grab her paper from my desk, handing it to her._

"_Well, you got an A on your paper. The only A in the class, actually."_

_She doesn't say anything. She looks at her paper, long and hard. Almost like she's surprised by the grade she received. She starts flipping through it, examining all the marks and critiques I wrote up. She looks up at me, sensing that I'm a little taken back by her reaction, she starts to speak up._

"_So you really liked it? I'm sorry… it's just that I… I never really considered myself much of a writer before. Didn't think I was ever really good at it."_

_I look at her confused as ever. Based on her paper, I would have guessed her to be the only English major in the entire class. I had assumed most of the other kids took this class to satisfy their Gordon rule requirements, but Santana had written such a wonderful paper, I had considered her to be an aspiring writer, or something of the kind. _

"_I don't know whose been lying to you your whole life, but I can assure you, you're a gifted writer. I held on to your paper because I wanted to personally thank you for not wasting my time, unlike the rest of your classmates."_

_She chuckled and flashed a smile. It was infectious. Every time she smiled, I felt the need to do the same. She looked back down to her paper and suddenly, her smile faded. It was odd, as if she really didn't have much faith in her paper to begin with._

"_Look, if you want to talk about your paper, or just writing in general, let me know and we could probably grab lunch or coffee and talk it over. I'm only an undergrad so maybe my opinion isn't as valuable as the rest of the hot shot professors around here, but hey, you can consider me a mentor of sorts. I'm a senior, and I love helping the new kids. College can be pretty daunting for some."_

"_I'm free now actually," she blurts out as soon as I'm done. When I look at her she looks down at her feet almost instantly, as if she's afraid she may have said the wrong thing. It's cute._

"_I have a while before my next class, so why don't we go grab some lunch."_

_She finally looks up, flashing that super, magic smile of hers. _

* * *

><p>"<em>I'm curious. What other writing classes have you taken?" <em>

"_Not very many. I took a fictional writing class with Schuester. That's why I decided to take this class. I thought he was good."_

"_Fictional writing? But Schuester hasn't taught that class in about two years, " I say, looking up from my salad, a bit confused._

"_I know. I took the class freshmen year. I'm a senior too actually."_

_That took me by surprise. Most seniors are knee deep in whatever their major coursework was, and Sociology of Women was a class that mostly freshmen or sophomores took._

"_I'm confused. If you're a senior, what are you doing in this class?"_

"_I still need 4,000 more words to satisfy my Gordon rule. I'm a pre-med student, so rather than take all my easy classes my freshmen year, I decided to spread them out throughout my entire undergrad."_

"_That's ridiculous," I blurt out without thinking. I put my hand over my mouth almost instantaneously realizing I really stepped in it. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so… rude. I guess... I mean, I just never would have pegged you for a med student. I mean, you seem smart enough. Smart and beautiful. Luck you," I cringe as I say it. I really need to learn how to keep my mouth shut sometimes._

_Brown eyes meet mine and suddenly I find myself at a loss of words. What is it about this girl that has me so flustered? An awkward silence takes over and we just sit and stare at each other. I struggle to find something to say. The words in my head don't seem to reach my mouth. Why am I so weird sometimes? A minute ago I couldn't seem to keep my big fat mouth shut, and now I can't think of a single thing to say. _

"_Do you always speak your mind so freely?" _

"_It's a curse."_

"_I think it's refreshing, actually," she says with a smile. "Most of my friends are so reserved, it's a breathe of fresh air for someone be so open," suddenly, it doesn't feel as awkward anymore. I grin and I'm not sure if it's because I'm glad she was not at all fazed by my word vomit, or if it's just because she's beaming back at me from across the table._

"_Why pre-med? I mean. No offense, but you are a good writer and apparently it's a natural talent."_

"_My parents are doctors."_

"_My parents are hippies. Yet, you don't see me following in their footsteps. Although, a little weed every once in a while never killed anybody," she laughs as I say it and I mentally pat myself in the back. I like making pretty girls laugh._

"_I like writing..." she say's but hesitates. Almost like she's trying to not say the wrong thing. "… I write all the time, but its mostly just for myself. I always get nervous when other people read my papers. I just don't think I'm any good," and suddenly I realize why she's being so cautious. It's not that she's afraid of saying the wrong thing. She's just trying to rationalize it all in her head. She just wants to reassure herself._

"_Can I see your paper?" She goes into her bag and pulls it out. She looks at me, questioning what I want her paper for. "I just want to show you something," I grab the paper from her hand and skim through it, looking for the right passage. When I finally find it I reread it over once more. Then it hits me. This paper was personal. While the rest of the class simply created characters and ridiculous scenarios to get their points across, Santana drew from personal experience. It made it feel authentic. It's why it was my favorite paper. _

_I hand her back the paper and point to the passage I had highlighted the other night when I had initially graded the paper. She looks at me, perplexed, as I urge her to read the passage. She looks at the paper, probably reading it in her head before reading I out loud. She tenses up but reads anyway._

"_Suddenly she realized what she had failed to see all along. She shouldn't have to do what everyone expected her to do. She needed to start doing things for herself." Her face finally relaxes and she sighs. _

"_This is about you isn't it?" I say, hoping not to overstep any boundaries._

_Before she has time to answer, her phone rings. We both jump not really expecting it, having both been so caught up in the conversation. I gesture for her to answer it. She looks at me questioningly._

"_Are you sure?" I simply nod, letting her know it's ok._

_She stares at the screen and she looks flustered. Almost like she didn't want to answer it, but ultimately deciding not to ignore it._

"_Hey Q," she speaks into the phone. I try to concentrate on other things, so as to not be nosy. I simply start staring at the birds in the trees. They look happy. They fly away though when a cab on the street honks, and suddenly I have nothing else to concentrate on._

"_Puck can't help you? I'm kind of busy," she looks up at me as she says it. I smile, hoping to calm her down. She looks uneasy. She gives a polite smile back but it quickly fades. She looks more and more uncomfortable the more time she spends on the phone. I wonder who Q is. Boyfriend? Girlfriend? Why am I even considering the possibility that Santana may be a lesbian? I really need to stop getting so ahead of myself._

"_If you need to go, its ok. We can meet up some other time," I say, hoping to diffuse some of the tension._

"_I hum," she puts her hand over the receiver of the phone. "Are you sure? I don't need to leave, its not really that important."_

"_Your friend on the phone seems pretty anxious. It's fine. Honestly," I say reassuringly. I'm not entirely sure if I'm trying to reassure her or myself. Maybe both. Deep down, I didn't want this lunch to end._

_She looks back to the phone and answers back,_

"_Ok Q, I'm heading out now I guess…" she looks up at me and mouths a "thank you." I smile letting her know it's perfectly ok, even though I secretly hoped she didn't have to leave so soon. "… Yea you do owe me. I don't get why Puck can't come help you, he is your boyfriend after all."_

_She hangs up the phone and we sit in silence for a minute or two, neither of us making much of an effort to get up from the table._

"_I'm sorry I wish I didn't have to go."_

"_Me too. Talking to you is really easy, I could do it for hours," my eyes go wide as I say it and she just laughs. I mentally smack myself. I really needed to learn how to control my word vomit._

"_Can I see your phone?" she asks. I pull it out, a little confused as to why she wanted to see it. _

_"Hey, we both have iPhones," I say rather annoyingly. I should probably tape my mouth shut at this point, I wasn't being very smooth at all._

_She goes to grab the phone from my hands and the moment she does I feel a little shock. I know she felt it too because she jumps back at the same time I do. I had heard once that electric shocks between two people were a sign of chemistry. I didn't really believe it, until now. She smiles and reaches for my phone again, this time a little warily, probably hoping not to get shocked again._

"_I'm gonna text myself from your phone that way we have each others numbers. Maybe we can reschedule another lunch."_

"_I'd like that," I say as she hands me back my phone. _

_She starts to gather her stuff together and gets up from the seat, dropping some cash on the table to cover her bill. I start to get up as well, not really sure what to do with myself at this point. We make eye contact, and for a brief moment, I swear I can feel my knees buckle. She smiles once more and that's when I know for sure that my knees did in fact buckle. She puts her hand out in order to steady me. Nervous by her proximity, I pull away immediately nearly knocking over a waiter as he was walking by. She starts laughing instantly and I can't help but do the same._

"_Your odd you know that," she says in between laughs._

"_Hopefully that's a good thing."_

"_It is," she puts out her hand and I take it. "Thanks for the talk. I really needed it."_

"_You're welcome."_

"_Sooooo I guess I'll see you… eventually," she say's nervously. I laugh._

"_We do have lecture on Monday, so as long as you don't plan on skipping, I think it's safe to say I'll see you Monday."_

"_I'll never skip Schuester's class ever again," she says rather bluntly. She looks a little timid as she say's it. Maybe she hadn't planned on saying that out loud._

_I look down and realize that we had been holding hands during this entire goodbye. An awkward goodbye, might I add. Santana seems to realize the same thing because as soon as I look up and we make eye contact she drops her hand rather quickly. I immediately wish for the contact as soon as it's gone._

"_Bye, Santana."_

"_Bye, Brittany," and with that she turns around. I watch her every step of the way until she rounds the corner._

"Brittany. BRITTANY!" I look up at a screaming Rachel.

"What?"

"You keep zoning out. Don't you need to finish that book by Monday? You're only like ten pages in."

I look down to the book. Crap. How long had I zoned out for this time? I really needed to start concentrating a lot more on my work and a lot less on Santana Lopez and her super, magic smile.

_:_


	4. Perfection

**Chapter 3**

I'm not entirely sure why I agreed to come here. We had been fighting all morning. About Puck no less. As if I gave a crap about their relationship.

Who am I kidding? Quinn always gets her way. She calls, and I come crawling back like a scolded puppy with its tail hidden between its legs. Sometimes, I really wish I had a backbone.

How long had I been standing out here anyway? I look at the screen of my cell phone. Crap. It's been almost 45 minutes. I've been standing in the freezing cold streets of New York City for almost an hour. What the hell is wrong with me? It was just a stupid fight. She couldn't make it because Puck had a gig. It's fine. He's her boyfriend. He comes first. Right?

I don't know why I ever bother dwelling on any of this anyway. Things will never change. Quinn and I have been… well Quinn and I for a really long time, and I don't see it ever changing. Oh well, it's not like I never tried. I take a deep breath, preparing myself for whatever may come when I get up there. It can't be that bad. I mean, she did call me after all, not the other way around. Finally, I take a step forward and hit the stupid buzzer.

"Hey it's me," I say loudly into the speaker, waiting for a response.

"Where have you been?" She yells back almost instantly. Almost like she had been waiting right by the door. "I called you forever ago. Whatever, I'll buzz you in."

I make my way to the elevator and up to the 6th floor. When I finally reach her door, I freeze yet again. This is wrong. I shouldn't be here. I make my move to go back to the elevators, but as I turn away the door rushes open. I turn back around and as soon as our eyes meet, I realize she's got me. I'm definitely not going anywhere.

"Aren't you going to come in?" she says softly. It sounded like she didn't really say anything at all. I sigh, rendering myself to her.

"Of course," I say. Of course I'm staying.

I walk in, feeling like a complete stranger. Ironic, considering I spend every waking minute of my life cooped up in this apartment with her.

"You cooked," I blurt out as I look around, noticing a nicely set up table. "Are you expecting anybody?" I ask her questioningly. She never cooked. She must have fancy guests coming over. Dear god, I hope her parents aren't in town. I hate them. I'm pretty sure they hate me more, though I'm not entirely sure why. It's not like I'm the one that got their only daughter knocked up at 16. Yet, they somehow still manage to love Puck.

I freeze from my thoughts when I feel her grab my hand.

"No. I'm not expecting anybody," she says with a light laugh, gesturing towards the table. "I cooked for you."

I look to our entwined hands and then right back up at her, slightly confused. Why was she being so nice? Quinn was notorious for being anything but nice. I look around which only makes me more confused. I guess she's waiting for me to say something, but I really have nothing to say. I honestly don't understand what the hell is going on right now.

"Santana."

When I hear my name, I'm taken from my thoughts. I look at her, and suddenly, it feels like it's just us. It feels right, being here with Quinn. It always does. I wish it could always be like this, but it never is and Quinn and I seem to be getting more and more complicated as time goes on.

I say nothing, even though I think she's expecting me to. I've been so overwhelmed since she asked me to come over earlier that I don't really have anything to say. She speaks up, knowing I'm not going to.

"I'm… I'm sorry. About this morning I mean."

In all the years that we've been friends, or whatever it is that we are, I don't think I've ever heard her apologize. The thing about Quinn is, she has too much pride running through her veins. She hates being wrong about something, and when she realizes she is, she rarely admits to anyone that she's made a mistake. Apologies from her come once in a lifetime. To hear her actually say _I'm sorry_ seems like a dream of some kind. I can't really believe she actually said it.

"Why?"

I immediately regret my words the moment they come out of my mouth. Getting an apology was hard enough. Getting her to talk about feelings? Never going to happen.

"I…" she pauses and starts to look around. Probably to nervous to even speak. I know then that I'm not really going to get an answer. I drop her hand and sigh. It was worth a shot I guess.

"Lets eat," I say, interrupting her from her thoughts. "This all looks like it took time and I'd hate for the food to get cold."

She smiles and I make my way to the table. When I take a seat, I notice her walk to the kitchen instead. I get up and decide to help her serve the food. I stop at the edge of the counter and try to just appreciate the view from across the kitchen. She was wearing the new dress I had gotten her for her birthday two weeks ago. My mind rand wild as I took in the view, the way her dress hugged her, exposing her tight body and exemplifying her beautiful long legs. The moment I saw it at the store, I knew I had to buy it for her.

Just staring at her now, I could barely form coherent thoughts. Quinn was, without a doubt, the most beautiful person I have ever laid my eyes on. She was perfection.

"What are you doing?" I ask while watching her wash and cut something up by the kitchen sink. "I thought, we were going to eat?"

"I just need to add a few more things before it's ready. Go wait at the table."

I start making my way across the table, deciding that it would be faster if I just helped her. Of course, Quinn starts yelling at me the moment she hears me take a few steps in her direction.

"Santana, I don't need your help!"

"But I want to help. It would be faster if I…"

"I'm trying to make everything perfect, please just let me finish this."

I stop in the middle of the kitchen and just let out a small laugh. She's so cute when she's frustrated. Quinn was always the perfectionist and I don't know why I thought she'd let me help with dinner. She never lets me help her with anything.

I suddenly get a crazy idea in my head and start walking towards Quinn again. This time I was determined to get what I want, and I wasn't talking about helping her cut the vegetables either. I stand right behind her and place both my hands on either side of her waist. I hear her drop the knife on the cutting board and take a hard breath. Did I mention how cute she was when she was frustrated?

"You seem tense," I say, teasing her with my words. "How long has it been since you've gotten any?"

I don't wait for her to speak because I already know the answer. _This morning, before our big fight. _ I simply wrap my arms around her waist and place a small kiss on her shoulder, letting my lips linger for a while. Just another one of the many ways I love to tease her. I hear her take a sharp breathe and I know then that I have her completely under my spell.

She starts to move underneath my arms and I unfold them from her waist and take a step back, staring deep into her eyes as she turns around. Suddenly, I've lost all the power and control and I start to feel weak as we hold each other's eyes. Sure, I knew how to taunt Quinn sexually, but Quinn knew how to manipulate my emotions. One look from her and my mind would go crazy over analyzing every minute of it. The way she was looking at me now was no different than all the other times. Deep down, I wanted to believe that she wanted me in every single way that I want her. It's what this look and so many others have told me before. Unfortunately, the looks never seemed to matter in the end. She was still with Puck, and that was never going to change.

Puck. I'm sure my face is of pure disgust right now because thinking of Puck was the fastest and easiest way to turn me off. Just the thought of him having his hands all over Quinn made me want to jump off a cliff. Maybe I'm bias, but Puck and Quinn together are just so gross to me. I've thought that from the moment she told me he got her pregnant.

I guess Quinn sensed that something was wrong because I feel a slight squeeze on my arm. I look down and see her hands have grabbed both of my arms.

"Where did you go just then?"

"Nowhere," I blurt out, hoping she would just drop the upcoming interrogation.

"Ok."

We sort of just stand there awkwardly for a minute. Neither of us looking at each other, both of us wishing someone would speak up first. I thank God it's Quinn, although I wasn't expecting her to start off with that.

"About this morning…"

I glare at her, slightly confused and slightly angered. The last thing I wanted to talk about was our fight this morning. Fighting about Puck was just not good territory to reach at the moment.

"Don't worry about this morning," I interrupt her, hoping to put the subject to rest.

"But we should talk about it."

"We really don't have to. In fact I'd prefer if we didn't."

I back away from her grip, clearly frustrated. Why couldn't she just drop it? I turn to walk away but I feel Quinn grab on my arm and spin me right back around. I stare back at her, confused by her sudden persistence. I've never seen Quinn more determined about something.

"Santana. Even if you don't want to talk about it, I do. Please, just let me properly apologize for once in my life."

I stare in utter disbelief. This morning was not so different from the million other fights we have had before, so why now is she suddenly so eager to apologize? I stay quiet and when I don't interrupt her, she continues.

"I chose Puck over you and for that I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone to his stupid gig. I should have gone to support you. It was the first time you were reading your story and I should have been there for you, the way you have always there for me."

When she finishes I don't know how to feel. I'm ecstatic at the fact that she actually apologized to me, but at the same time, talking about this is just opening up old wounds. The more I think about this past weekend and the way Quinn dismissed my reading, the more angry I get. It was the first time I was actually going to read one of my stories out loud. Quinn had never read or heard my stories and she was the one person I was most eager to share them with. When she told me she couldn't come because she needed to go support Puck during his band's show at Barneys, I was not just pissed off. I was disappointed. It had taken me so much to get the courage to just read my stories out loud. When she didn't care or support me in any way, it hurt me more than anything ever has.

I didn't want to talk about it anymore because I didn't want her to know I was hurting. Quinn hated feeling vulnerable in front of me, and because of that, I hated being vulnerable in front of her.

"I get it Quinn. Puck's your boyfriend. You had to be there for him. It's fine. I promise."

"He may be my boyfriend. But you're my best friend…" she says the next part so softly, I'm not entirely sure I even heard it correctly, "… You're more than that actually."

I freeze when she says it, confused by her meaning. _You're more than that. _I want her ask her what she means by it. But I'm afraid. As much as I want to take that next step with Quinn, I'm afraid of what exactly that next step may entail. Quinn and I have had this same, fucked up relationship for about six years now. I'm not entirely sure if I know how to be anything but her best friend with benefits.

I feel her hand on my cheek and as I stare up at her I think, to hell with all the complications. I reach up and kiss her softly. I had wanted to kiss her the moment she opened the door. When I feel her other hand reach for the side of my neck I give her another kiss, this one much longer than the last. I feel a reassuring squeeze and I kiss her stronger.

Suddenly, I start to remember about the amazing idea that I had earlier and decide it's time to follow through. I push Quinn against the counter, reaching behind her and throwing the cutting board, food, and utensils in the sink next to us. I pick Quinn up with both hands on either side of her waist and sit her on the counter, her legs wrapping around me almost instinctively. Before I have any time to do much else, she pulls me closer and starts kissing me frantically, grabbing and pulling at whatever she can get her hands on.

I place both my hands on her thighs as I pull away from her lips, regretting it almost immediately, and start to make my way towards her neck. I feel her gasp suddenly and collapse into me as my tongue makes contact with her soft skin. Her neck was her weak spot and I plan to take full advantage of it right now.

Her legs start to wrap tighter around me and I take that as a signal to move things along. I start to slide both my hands up her thigh, pulling her dress up simultaneously. The higher I got, the warmer it felt, which only excited me even more. I lift her up for a few seconds, long enough to get her dress all the way up to her waist, and sit her back down on the counter. I glance down for a second and notice that she isn't wearing any underwear. I shoot my eyebrow up, questioning, and she just laughs.

"Lets just say I was hoping we'd end up this way."

"So dinner was just your way of seducing me?"

"Basically."

I laugh and resume our foreplay, going straight for her neck once again. My hands start to make there way up her thigh again, finally reaching her pulse point. _She's so wet_. I let my fingers linger, teasing her, waiting for her to beg in order to continue.

"Santana…" she whispers softly in my ear, thrusting her hips simultaneously. "Please."

I grin, feeling so accomplished because I have the power to make her feel this way. I wonder, foolishly, if Puck could get her as hot and bothered as I do. For some reason, I highly doubt it.

I slip my fingers into her, feeling nothing but wetness. I hear a small moan escape Quinn's lips and then I feel her hand on my wrist. She starts to guide me, helping me find whatever rhythm she's on. She lets go a few seconds later when my hand is finally in sync with her body.

She keeps rocking her hips into me as I thrust my fingers in and out of her. I feel her let go of my hair and watch as she places both hands on the counter, leaning back at the same time. I mourn the loss of contact almost immediately.

"Lean back into me," I mumble quickly.

She wraps her arms back around my neck and places her forehead up against mine.

"I'm close," she says, and I pick up my pace wanting her to reach her climax.

She starts to kiss me frantically again and I decide to switch things up a bit. Before I know it, I was removing my hand and replacing it with my mouth. _Fuck, she is so wet. _I feel her muscles tighten simultaneously, and I know it's only a matter of time before she fully unravels.

I scoot her closer towards me, hoping to generate a little more pressure. I suck and kiss a few more times, pushing my tongue against her sensitive spot. I feel her body jolt and she lets out a little grunt, finally reaching her climax.

"_Fuck," _Quinn hisses as she thrusts her hips into me one last time.

I stand up fully as she relaxes her body fully on top of the counter. She puts her arms around my waist, pulling me closer, and finally rests her chin on my shoulder.

Truthfully, I live for moments like this. Moments when it was just me and her and it seemed like nothing else in the world mattered. I silently cursed the fact that Puck was her boyfriend and by default he was meant to do all the things I wish I could do. I wish I didn't think about it so much, her relationship with Puck, I mean. It always managed to slip its way into my thoughts, killing my mood. This time, I try my hardest to forget about Puck and just live in the now, here with Quinn. I run my hands up and down her back, thankful to have her so close to me right now.

We stay like this for a while before she finally speaks,

"Why are you so good to me?" she asks through a few heavy breaths

"You make it so easy," I answer quickly and honestly. Being there for Quinn was the easiest thing in the world and making her orgasm felt like a lifetime accomplishment. Maybe that was a little hyperbolic, but around Quinn, I always felt like I was on such a high.

I take a step back and she slides off the counter, pulling her dress down at the same time. I take a moment to look her up and down again, this time she notices, giving me a playful shove as she laughs at me.

"Did I forget to mention how hot you look in that dress?"

"I look hot in everything you buy me," she retorts and I give her a little smile as she leans into me with a gentle kiss. "Now let's eat before the food gets ridiculously cold. I spent a solid two hours cooking for you and I will not let it go to waste."

"We should fight more often, especially if it means you're gonna cook for me every time."

"This is a one time deal. Besides, you know how stressed I get about everything, which is why I never cook. I hate serving less than perfect food."

"I'm sure whatever you made is perfect."

"Oh it is. Did you not hear me complain about how I took three hours to cook for you."

"I thought you said two?" I shoot back sarcastically. I could do this for hours with her. The playful banter was just one of the few things I loved about my relation… friendship, with Quinn.

She gives me a playful smile and grabs my hand as she walks towards the table.

"Sit down and let me serve you, please," she says as I take my seat. Before she heads back into the kitchen she quickly adds, "Oh, and I hope your fine with skipping the salad. Unfortunately, some horny teenager decided it was okay to just throw the food into my dirty sink." I laugh as she says it, not feeling guilty in the slightest bit.

I stare back at her as she walks back into the kitchen, wishing we could stay in this moment forever. Truth is, I loved Quinn the way I've never loved anyone or anything in my entire life. She was just as beautiful inside as she was on the outside. To me, Quinn Fabray was perfection.

* * *

><p><strong>an: Review and let me know what you think!**


	5. Moments

**Chapter 4**

I can't remember the last time I ever had such a good weekend. Somehow, Quinn and I managed to not fight, and I know its kind of pathetic to say that my happiness is directly attached to my friendship with Quinn, but it truly is. It doesn't take much to make me satisfied or happy, all it takes is a smiling Quinn. And isn't that what true love is about? Wanting the other person to live a truly meaningful and fulfilling life. Well, that's how I felt about Quinn for sure. As long as she was happy, whether with Puck or some other shmuck, I couldn't complain.

I feel something tug at my shoulder and I turn to the right to see what it is. _Why does he insist on carrying that stupid guitar around?_ I groan when I realize that it's just Puck.

"Do you plan to break out in tune in the middle of class? Why did you bring your guitar?" I bite back condescendingly.

"I have rehearsal after class. Why so harsh? Bad morning?"

I sit and contemplate for a minute before a small, conniving smile reaches my face. _It was a great morning actually. Your girlfriend showered me with sex and breakfast in bed. _

"Maybe," I say monotonously, leaving the conversation to an end.

I pull out my phone to check the time and notice that class started five minutes ago, except, Schuester was nowhere to be found. I look around in confusion and realize that I'm probably the only one who noticed. Everyone else is just playing around on their phones probably hoping for Schuester to never show up so that class can get canceled and we could all just go home. _I hate freshmen_.

I turn my head to say something to Puck when I hear a door slam open. I turn to look to the front of the room and notice a tall, blonde rushing inside the classroom, clearly out of breathe. I smile. _Brittany._

"Sorry I'm late, guys. Schuester came down with the bird flu, or something. Anyway, I'll be taking over lectures until he gets back," she manages to get out in between breaths.

"Great," I hear Puck moan next to me. "I hate our TA," he leans over and whispers in my ear.

I raise my eyebrows and shoot back a questioning look, as if to say "_Why? She's Awesome."_

"She gave me a C+ on my paper. I thought you said Schuesters classes were easy. I mean, it's the only reason I'm in here."

I laugh and place my attention to the front of the room, truly interested in what Brittany has to say. I really did like Mr. Schue. He was an amazing professor who really made me appreciate writing a lot more, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't prefer the idea of Brittany teaching this class instead.

Our lunch date the other day was rather strange. For one, I was so shocked at myself for having insisted that we grab lunch in the first place, considering we had met a mere five minutes before. But, there was something about the way Brittany was talking to me about my paper. I felt like she understood where I was coming from, which is weird because absolutely nobody really understands me. Not even Quinn, even though she thinks she does.

It was a breathe of fresh air, really. Listening to her talk about how I needed to live for myself and not my parents. I think a part of me was just amazed to hear someone other than myself say it.

Honestly, pre med was not the career path I wanted to follow. I'm not so sure it ever was. But, how do I tell my father that what I really wanted was to be a writer? The minute I tell him he is going to flip, and I'm pretty sure he'd even make me pay him back the thousands and thousands of dollars he invested into my education here at NYU. Which, how would I even be able to pay that off of a writer's salary? That is, if I can even get a decent job as a writer.

Maybe I was a coward, for not pursuing what I wanted, but being a doctor wouldn't be so bad, I thought. _It's the safe choice. Take a gamble, Santana._

I shake my head, trying to get out of my thoughts and trying to pay closer attention to the blonde up front.

"I wanted to side track today's lecture in favor of going over some of your papers. Honestly," she says with a long pause. My guess is she was trying to find the nicest way to not offend everyone and their shitty papers. But, given the way she was so agitated about their papers at lunch the other day, mixed with the fact that she seemed to have absolutely no mouth filter whatsoever, I knew this was going to be good.

"Honestly, your papers sucked. There really is no nice way to say it, so I'll give you guys ten seconds to soak it all in."

I let out a small chuckle. Unfortunately, because of the dead silence in the room, everyone is able to hear it and when I look up, all I see is 200 heads staring right back at me. I never wanted to die more than in this very moment.

I stare at Brittany from the back of the room, though I'm not entirely sure she can see me from way up front, and mumble a quick a apology. I sink down in my seat hoping and praying that I didn't offend her.

"Santana can laugh, because unlike the rest of you, Santana actually turned in a paper worthy of an A."

As soon she says it I make a mental note to thank her later. Her big mouth was a blessing in disguise. It effectively made everyone stop hating me, although I'm pretty sure all of that hate was now directed towards Brittany.

"Many of you guys aren't writing about what you know," she continues. "Now I'm not asking you guys to share your life stories with me, I'm sure you'd love to keep most of that private. But, I think it's important to channel your personal experiences into your writing."

I mull her words over. My whole life I had written only for myself. I was always too afraid to let others read my work because I hated the idea of people not "getting" me. But mostly, I think I was just afraid people would hate my stories because those stories were all so personal. If people hated whatever I wrote about, in a backwards kind of way, it was like they hated my very own life.

"Okay, so let's discuss a few things I _don't_ want to see in your stories. Number one, your stories don't need to have lesbians in them. I know this is a women's studies class, but for the record, not all women are lesbians. I know. I wish they were too, but sadly, that's not the case."

Brittany was truly an odd character, and one that I appreciated greatly. The entire class erupts into laughter with lots of kids staring around at each other with questioning looks. Most of them probably thought Brittany was just cracking a joke, but I knew she was being serious, which got me a little curious. Was Brittany gay?

I mentally kicked myself for being so narrow-minded. A comment like that doesn't mean Brittany was into girls, it just means she's accepting of any and all people. Given what an open and seemingly loving person Brittany seemed to be, it really wasn't such a novelty idea.

"But Miss Pierce, the only people that care about women's studies are men and lesbians."

I look to the right of me as Puck blurts out his ridiculous comment. I sink lower and lower in my seat, looking around and wondering if I can make a quick exit before Brittany realizes I associate myself with someone as ridiculous as Puck.

"What's your name?"

"Noah Puckerman. But everyone just calls me Puck."

"Ahh, Noah…"

"Puck," he bites back.

"Noah," Brittany replies with a grin on her face, "I remember your paper perfectly well. I can see why you may want to argue with me on this particular subject, given the fact that your paper was about a cheerleader who gets knocked up in high school, becomes a one time lesbian for another cheerleader who helps her through her pregnancy, only to decide that said cheerleader is just overly emotional, thus discovering that she really wasn't a lesbian all along. She was just lonely."

The whole class laughs but I'm pretty sure I cough up a lung instead. Puck's story may have been ridiculous to Brittany and everyone else in class, but to me, it was all too true.

I look at Puck as he tried to argue with Brittany about how all feminists were lesbians, and wondered if Puck knew the real nature of my friendship with Quinn. Lesbian cheerleaders? Did he know Quinn and I were… No. We weren't gay. We were just… close. Closer than most friends.

When Quinn got pregnant it rocked her entire world. Her parents kicked her out and Puck was an even greater douche bag then than he was now. I was the only friend she had left because everyone, including the entire Cheerio Squad, had abandoned her. My parents agreed to let her move in and they even learned to love her as an honorary daughter.

Some rich, Broadway diva had agreed to adopt Beth, much to Quinn's dismay. She wanted to keep Beth, but Quinn knew perfectly well she couldn't raise a kid, not at 16. She was a wreck all summer, following Beth's adoption. I had never been more worried. Even Puck, who could care less about anything other than hitting on girls, was worried. He would come by the house at least three times a day just to check on Quinn. It was then that I started to feel bad for Puck, because I knew he had learned to love her, for real. Seeing her in pain, it was killing him. As much as I hated Puck, he was such a gentleman in those days. It's the only reason I learned to deal with their relationship when they got together again in college.

During Quinn's depression day's, we grew closer. We didn't really do much talking. Lots of times, we would literally just sit in silence. I'd hold her close, telling her it would all be okay, and she would just cry in my arms. Every night she'd cry herself to sleep and I would whisper to her how much I loved her as soon as she drifted off.

I finally come back down to reality when I notice Puck staring at me rather uncomfortably, mouth open in disbelief. I look around and notice he isn't the only one staring and then I glance at Brittany who has her full attention on Puck.

"Answer the question, Noah. Do you think Santana is a lesbian because she enjoys women's studies?"

My mouth drops open. I understand Brittany's need to make a point, but did she have to use me as an example? If my head weren't all the way in my chair at this point, I'd sink lower.

"Hum, no. No I don't think Santana's a lesbian. Although, my answer is based on personal experience."

I groan. _I don't think he realizes he basically just told everyone that we've had sex._

"Thank you, Noah. Although, please make sure to keep _that_ personal experience out of your next story."

I wonder if Pucks admission was as uncomfortable for her as it was for me. Thinking about two students having sex. That was weird for teachers right?

"Tying this back to the point I was trying to make earlier, we can all agree that not all feminists are lesbians, just like not all lesbians are feminists. What you have to understand is that no two people are the same. People do things differently because everyone goes through different experiences," I start to listen more intensely, truly interested in what Brittany had to say. For some reason, it felt like she was talking directly to me. I start to think about my past and all the decisions that led me to this very moment, my relationship with Quinn, even my backwards friendship with Puck. How did all of these experiences define me?

"Now, I know the focus of this class is women's studies, but it's a writing class first and foremost. When you are writing, you need to keep your characters from being one-dimensional. Remember, moments in life help define us, so try and keep that in mind when you are trying to define these characters. Are you all with me?"

Nobody says anything. Everyone just looks around completely lost and dumbfounded, as if Brittany was speaking in a foreign language. _I hate stupid freshmen._

"I understand completely, Miss Pierce," I raise my hand and say, to which she offers me a small smile.

"Well, I know you do Santana. Sadly, most of these kids can barely tell the difference between there and they're."

I chuckle before I realize how awkward this probably is for everyone else. Brittany just openly ridiculed them all in what seemed like a one on one conversation between two friends. I let out a small cough to try and diffuse the tension in the room and look off to the side only to notice Puck glaring at me, eyebrows raised.

"What?" I whisper to him as I shrug my shoulders.

"Since when are you and _Miss Pierce_ so friendly?"

I open my mouth as if to answer but shut it when I realize I didn't really know what to say. We had lunch once; we weren't really friends at all.

"We had lunch and she gave me some tips while we talked to me about my paper. No big deal," I answer back quickly, making it seem like I was trying to lie my way out of something.

I notice a smile creep up on Pucks face and realize that my answer was probably not the right one. I didn't even want to know what was running in Puck's head at the moment, chances are though, I wasn't going to like it one bit.

* * *

><p>The bell rings and everyone rushes to get up and out of class.<p>

"Okay class so for Wednesday I want you to draft a couple paragraphs about some of the moments in your life you think helped defined you. Don't worry, I won't read them, I just want to get you guys thinking."

I make my way towards the front of the class, hoping to talk to Brittany about maybe rescheduling lunch. There were still some things I wanted to talk to her about, mostly about writing and the slight possibility of me pursuing it as an actual career choice.

I start to walk towards her desk when I reach the front of the room, only to stop and turn around when I hear Puck from behind my shoulder.

"Where are you going?"

"I need to talk to Brittany about something."

"Brittany? Didn't realize you were on first name basis with our professor " he interjects with a wicked smile on his face. _I really am afraid for whatever thoughts are crossing this idiot's mind right now_

"She's our TA. Not our professor" I reply sarcastically, hoping he would just drop whatever game he was playing at.

"Look, I'm late for rehearsal. When you see Quinn, can you tell her that I won't be getting in until really late? Finn wanted me to go see some play with him."

"Is he serious about asking out hobbit? That girl was ridiculous and annoying," I say thinking about Finn's newfound obsession. Some Julliard student who thought she was the next Barbara Streisand. _How can someone so small have such a big mouth? _ I thought, thinking about Rachel Berry.

"It seems like he's serious. Whatever, I try not to judge. All women are beautiful."

I laugh as Puck walks away. Such a Puck-thing to say.

I turn around and make my way towards the desk at the front of the room, stopping right in front of it.

"Hi," I say when Brittany doesn't notice me. She looks up from the desk, offering me a wide smile.

"Hey there. Did you enjoy my first teaching lesson?"

"I did." I answer genuinely. I really did enjoy the lecture and thought it was much more interesting from the times Schuester taught the class.

"Yea? Well I think it went well, minus the fact that I questioned your sexuality in front of everyone. I'm so sorry about that. Like, really real really sorry. Me and my word vomit don't know when to stop."

I laugh, having forgotten about the awkward incident.

"It's okay. It's a good thing I'm straight otherwise it would have been a moot point to make."

"So you're not gay? Damn. There go my chances I guess."

I steal a few quick glances around the room, hoping nobody is around. They would have found this to be the weirdest of conversations. Relief washes over me when I realize the room had already cleared out.

I hear Brittany clear her throat and I realize that we had entered in awkward silence.

"So I wanted to ask you out actually," my eyes go wide as she finishes her statement. I guess she sees the complete shock on my face because she immediately starts to back peddle. " To lunch, I mean. To talk about your paper. Not like a date, just. I'll stop now."  
>I'm silent for a couple of seconds before bending over completely, no longer able to contain my laughter. Most people would probably be annoyed by Brittany's inability to say the right things; I just found it all kinds of funny. I wish people were as open as her.<p>

"That's why I came to talk to you actually. I wanted to reschedule our lunch since it got cut short last time."

"Well how about tomorrow? Are you free?"

I mentally run through my schedule, wondering if I have anything planned.

"What day is it tomorrow?"

"Tuesday."

_Damn_. I had clinicals on Tuesday.

"I can't. Classes all day. Actually, I'm pretty much swamped all week until Friday."  
>"Well, Friday works for me if it works for you," she interjects quickly.<p>

"Friday it is then. After class sound good?"

"Great. Thinking about our date is going to be the only thing to get me through the entire week," she says. I know awkward comments like this were supposed to make me feel, well, awkward, but for reasons I myself couldn't understand, I found Brittany's ridiculous comments rather amusing. Had Puck said something like that to me, I probably would have rolled my eyes and slapped him.

"The more weird shit you say, the more I like you," I input sarcastically, heading towards the door when I'm done.

"That's the most honest thing anyone has ever said to me," I hear her say over my shoulder.

I turn the doorknob and open it slightly, balancing the door on my as I turn around to face Brittany.

"For the record, our lunch date is going to be the only thing to get me through this week too," I say with a smirk, her wide smile being the last thing I see before walking out.

As I make my way towards my car I start to think back to Brittany's lesson about moments in life. A lot of my life was defined based on the people in it. Quinn was, without a doubt, the love of my life. Puck, despite my obvious frustrations with him, was the only other friend I could always count on. I was grateful for them because meeting them was one of those moments changed my life forever. I start to wonder if meeting Brittany was going to become one of those life-changing moments.


	6. Beautiful Blonde

**Chapter 5**

"Miss Pierce."

I turn around, not entirely sure if I should be annoyed or not. He said my name with such sarcasm, making me think he was up to something.

"Brittany. Please, Noah. Stop calling me Miss Pierce. Everyone else in class calls me Brittany."

"No, I don't think so. I'm pretty sure only Santana calls you Brittany," he shoots back with a sly smile on his face. _I would pay a million dollars to know what exactly goes through this boy's mind. _

"Do you need something, Noah? Or are you just here to torture me as usual."

"Ha. Very Funny, _Brittany. _I just wanted to invite you to a party," I look up from my desk, eyebrows raised. Was he serious? "My friend is hosting and there's gonna be lots of people and lots and lots of booze. Should be lots of fun."

I roll my eyes at his repeated abuse of the word lots, before considering his question once more. Was he asking me out? I look at him in disbelief, completely confused by the turn of events. Haven't I bullied him enough in class all week? I mean, does he really think I'd actually go on a date with him?

I am not entirely sure what my reaction should be at this point. For one, I'm actually somewhat flattered simply because I pictured Noah Puckerman picking up his usual women from the nearest sorority house. _Maybe this kid actually has standards_. On the other hand though, Noah was a first class idiot. Sure, he reminded me of myself in a few ways with his ability to say whatever was on his mind, but if anyone ever needed a mouth filter, it was Noah. His comments were offensive at times, but mostly they were just so ridiculous I had no choice but to just laugh it off and roll my eyes. I did have to give him credit though because unlike me, he spoke without fear. I was always too afraid of people reactions at my silliness.

"Noah, I'm not too sure a date would be appropriate."

"But it's not a date Miss P… Brittany. It's not a date. Just a couple of cool kids, hanging out at a party. That's all. Besides, I hear you're our age, so it's not like it's rape."

I can't help but smile at the absurdity of his comment. We really were alike in so many ways.

"You mean it's not statutory rape," I bite back, trying to suppress any laughter.

"Yea, sure. I'm not a poli-sci major, so my legal terms may be a little mixed up, but you know what I mean."

"Noah, as lovely as this all sounds, I'm going to have to decline. I have a lot of readings to catch up. I'm still a student too."

"You're gonna bail on good people and beer just so you can cozy up in your room and read Twilight or something. Come on, I know you're cooler than that just based on the way you called me out on my crap in class the other day."

I stare back at him in amusement. If anything he is at least persistent. That should get him far enough in life.

"First of all, I'm offended by the fact that you think I'd be reading Twilight. I finished those books years ago. Second, even if I did say yes, I wouldn't know anybody there."

"You'd know me. Isn't that enough?" I roll my eyes as if to say, _is that a serious question? _ "I'm kidding," he says following my reaction. "Santana is gonna be there. I know how much you two get along these days."

I let out a small grin when he mentions her name and I start to warm up to the idea of attending this party just so I could spend some time with Santana. I don't know why I was so taken by her, but I just found her absolutely fascinating. I bet she'd make a cute drunk.

"It's still a no. I'm sorry, Noah."

He starts to pout rather dramatically, making me chuckle a little bit. "You're gonna regret not going. I promise," he says as he bends down to pick up his guitar before heading for the door.

"Maybe next time," I respond, knowing full well there will never be a next time. Sure, I found Noah Puckerman amusing, but I would never in a million years go on a date with him.

* * *

><p>"Kurt. Rachel," I yell as close the door to my apartment behind me. <em>Where is everybody?<em>

I start to make my way into the kitchen trying to figure out my meal plan for the night. When I open the fridge I realize there really isn't much food for me to even consider eating in. _Maybe Kurt can bring me something on his way home._

I pick up my cell phone and start to dial Kurt. No answer. I start to dial Rachel's number before realizing she had a show today which means she probably was planning on celebrating afterwards with her new boyfriend.

I go sit on the couch, declaring defeat. _Another quiet night in, just me and my books._ I realize I spoke too soon when I hear the door slam open, both Kurt and Rachel walking in. Kurt makes his way to the living room, settling down right next to me.

"No, no, no. Kurt, I need you to go get ready. I don't want to be late to the party."

"What party?" I ask not entirely sure what it is they were talking about.

"Finn is throwing a party, and guess what? You're coming," Kurt answers back almost immediately.

"I can't, I have to..."  
>"Study," Kurt says with wide eyes. "You're always studying, Brittany."<br>"I know, I'm sorry. But if it's Finn's party then Blaine will be there and you will hardly have any time for me anyway. And I'm sure Rachel will be following Finn around like a lost puppy."

Neither of them says anything, which means I probably said the wrong thing because both Kurt and Rachel always had a lot to say. We sit in an awkward silence before Kurt finally speaks up.

"To hell with that, you never hang out with us anymore. Ever since you took that teaching assistant job, you've been completely M.I.A. Well, I'm done with that. You're coming out. Rachel and I both miss you. So that's that."  
>I mull his words over for a bit before realizing he's right. They were my best friends and I hardly ever get the chance to see them anymore. I give Kurt the biggest smile I could possibly give him before throwing my arms around him. <em>To hell with school. I need a night out.<em>

"Come on," I say, getting up from the couch, pulling both Rachel and Kurt towards our bedrooms. "Let's go find something to wear."

* * *

><p>We start to make our way to the building and for the first time in a while, I'm actually nervous. I'm not too sure what to expect considering the only people I was going to know were standing right next to me. <em>They better not ditch me for their boyfriends.<em>

When we finally make it upstairs we stand in front of the door, neither of us making a move to open it.

"I get why I'm nervous, but why are you guys?"

"Me, nervous? Never," Rachel states nonchalantly before opening the door and disappearing inside. Kurt and I remain standing in silence.

"Kurt?"

"Hmmm," he mumbles before looking me in the eye. I can't seem to shake the feeling that something was really wrong.

"What's wrong?" I ask, genuinely concerned.

He's quiet for a second before adding, "I think Sam might be coming. I mean, Finn said he invited him."

"Trouty mouth?"

"Do we know more than one Sam?"

I laugh knowing full well Kurt was right.

"When was the last time you and Sam talked?"

"Not since we broke up and he skipped town last year."

I start to think back to last year and all the pain Kurt had to suffer due to his traumatic break up. When Sam's dad lost his job back in Lima, he decided to quit the band and move back home to help his family, breaking up with Kurt in the process. Kurt wanted them to work it out, but Sam just thought Kurt was better off. I had never seen Kurt so distraught before.

I was still very bitter for the way Sam ended things so abruptly. He was my best friend up until those days. When he skipped town he didn't just leave Kurt behind, he left us all behind. Luckily for Kurt though, Blaine was there to comfort him. Kurt was hesitant at first; still holding on to the possibility that Sam would change his mind. But eventually he let himself fall for Blaine, and as much as I wish him and Sam would have gone the distance, Blaine was absolutely wonderful.

"When did he even come back to town?" I ask, curious why Sam hadn't tried to make contact. I understand why he wouldn't call Kurt, but why did he have to shut me out as well?  
>"I didn't ask. I didn't want Blaine to think I still cared," I give Kurt a look, as if to ask <em>do you? <em> He looks away almost immediately making me think he still may have some feelings for Sam. I feel for him and his situation. I wrap my arms around him to let him know I'm here whenever he needs me.

I grab his hand, "Let's go inside," giving him a gentle squeeze as I reach for the door. "I'm here Kurt. It'll all be okay, don't stress over it."

"Thanks Britt."

As we make our way inside, Kurt and I walk around, hand in hand, trying to find our friends. I wasn't too hopeful considering this place was well over capacity. I wasn't too sure how I was even able to walk around.

I notice Rachel and Finn in the kitchen and make a mental note to yell at him later for inviting Sam. I feel a tug at my hand and then I realize Kurt dragging me in the complete opposite direction.

"Kurt where are we going?" I try to yell over the music.

He leans in to me, "Blaine texted me. He's in his room."

We start to make our way to the bedrooms when I notice something out of the corner of my eye. I stop dead in my tracks and look over to the group around the table playing beer pong. My eyes go wide when I finally make out the ridiculous mohawk.

I pull back on Kurt's hand, "I'll be right back. You go ahead."

He shrugs his shoulders and keeps making his way to find Blaine. I turn and start to make my way towards the beer pong table, stopping when I notice who Noah is partners with. _Santana._

I quickly turn around hoping neither of them saw me, too nervous to be around either of them in this kind of environment. I was definitely not going to be drinking tonight. The last thing I needed was to say the wrong thing. It's something I manage to do easily when I'm sober, and when I'm drunk, it's a total disaster.

I start to walk towards the kitchen, figuring now is as good a time as any to yell at Finn for his idiocy. As I'm walking though, Finn and Rachel are actually making their way towards me, pitchers of beer in each of their hands.

"Brittany, let's go play," Rachel says as she stops right in front of me.

My eyes go wide. "You hate beer, Rachel."

"Right, well, how about you drink my cups for me then."

I hear Finn laugh and I stare up at him.

"I have a bone to pick with you," I tell him, trying to sound as mean as possible, yet, failing miserably.

"What did I do?" he shrugs, clearly confused.

"You invited Trouty Mouth. You may be the dumbest person on the planet and that's coming from me."

His eyes hit the floor immediately knowing full well he messed up.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize everyone would be so upset about it. Sam's my friend."

I'm about to yell back that Kurt is also his friend when I hear the crowd yelling behind me.

"Finn, we need the beer!"

"I'm coming," he yells back. "Look, Brittany, I'm sorry. I really had no idea Kurt would be so upset over it. I'll talk to him, okay?"

I nod accepting his apology, even though I wasn't the one he needed to be apologizing to. I start to walk towards the direction of Blaine's bedroom, hoping to find Kurt, when Finn decides to body block me. I look back up at him, _God he's tall. He's like a baby T-rex._

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To find Kurt," I respond, confused.

"No, no. Like you said, Rachel doesn't drink beer and I need a partner."

He starts to walk in the direction of the crowd, and I try my best to come up with an escape route. Unfortunately, I can't, and next thing I know I'm standing on the edge of the table staring back at Santana and Noah on the other side. Eyes are darting everywhere and nobody is saying anything. I guess Finn notices the awkward silence because he starts to introduce me before Santana manages to interrupt.

"Brittany? What are you doing here?"

"I invited her," Noah says, looking fairly amused by the turn of events. "I thought you were too busy reading Judy Blume. What made you change your mind?"

Santana looks at me and then back at Noah, clearly puzzled. Crap. I hope she doesn't think I came here for him.

"Actually, Noah. I'm here with my roommates. Rachel and Kurt," I say, hoping to clarify that I was in fact not here for Noah Puckerman.

Everyone around the table starts to laugh and I can notice a few people mouth the name Noah, mocking the way I said it. I guess everyone really did call him Puck.

"Rachel Berry is your roommate?" I hear Santana say. Her facial expressions are all over the place and I'm not entirely sure what to make of them. The way she spits out Rachel's name though, I can tell that she is definitely not her biggest fan. Not that I blame her. There weren't very many people who could tolerate Rachel. Even I found her unbearable at times.

"We went to high school together. We've been friends for years."

Her eyes go wide, clearly shocked. We stare back at each and it's like nobody else is at the table but us. I know Finn and Noah are settling the rules of the game because I can see them talking out of the corner of my eyes, but I'm not entirely sure who is saying what because my eyes are focused entirely on Santana, and hers on mine. I snap out of it when I hear Rachel cheer my name. I look to her and then back at Finn whose holding out a ping-pong ball. I grab it and wait for him to take a shot before I take mine. _Guess I'm drinking tonight._

* * *

><p>Noah and Santana end up killing us. I blame Finn.<p>

"Better luck next time, Fetus Face," Santana snaps back and everyone starts to laugh, especially me. _Fetus Face. I'll have to start using that._

Santana and I exchange knowing glances, as if to say, _we should talk_. But neither of us makes a move and we just stare at each other from across the table. Finally I speak up and say I'm going to the kitchen to get more beer to which Santana turns and tells Noah to find himself a new partner. I notice him extend a hand to a striking blonde that was standing on the edge of the table.

I make my way to the keg in the kitchen when I feel someone creep up behind me. I know it's Santana but I still manage to get startled. When I turn around to say something, I notice that it's not in fact Santana, instead, it's Sam.

"Maybe next time you should have me as your partner."

I don't respond, not knowing what I should or shouldn't say. For one, I haven't heard from Sam in almost a year. Every time I tried to call him, his father would say he'd call me back but Sam never did, which told me that not only did Sam not want to be found, but also, he clearly didn't want anything to do with us anymore. Still, Sam and I had been friends since we were little kids. I'd be lying if I didn't say I missed him.

I put my arms around him but he keeps his glued to his side. After a few seconds though, he finally returns the embrace.

"I've missed you Sammy."

"I've missed you too Britt. I'm sorry I've been so far away."

"Do you mean figuratively or literally?" I ask him, arms still wrapped around his waist. I wasn't planning on letting go until he did.

"Both, I guess. I should have called."

"Yea," I say, not knowing what else to say. I wanted to talk to him so bad. To ask him about his life this past year, but Finn's party didn't seem like the appropriate venue for such a conversation.

He clears his throat and I take a small step back in order to properly look up at him, "Now is not the time to talk, but this weekend. Maybe we can meet and catch up?"

I nod in agreement and tell him to call me, letting him now I still have the same number before unwrapping my arms completely from around his waist. I give him a sad smile, wondering if he really is going to call me, but not counting too much on it.

"I'll call. I promise," he says, reading my mind.

I let out a small laugh._ Twins._

I open my mouth to say just that when he talks over me, "Is Kurt here?"

I'm not entirely sure what to say because I wasn't too sure what Kurt wanted me to say. I probably should have asked him.

"I… I don't know," I start to mumble, trying my best to form some sort of a coherent sentence. "I mean, yes. He's here. I just don't know if you're someone he wants to see."

"Is he with Blaine?" he spits back, to which my eyes go wide.

"You know about Blaine?"

"Finn told me," he says monotonously. "I'm not mad," he say's, although I'm not entirely sure I believe him, just like I didn't believe Kurt when he said he didn't care that Sam was back in town. _This is going to get interesting._

"You shouldn't be. You left him, remember?"

I wish I could take it back almost immediately because I know my words hurt him. He starts sporting a visible frown and I give him a comforting hug, knowing very well the hug wasn't very helpful to him at all. It was just second nature for me to hug someone who seemed so sad.

"I'm going to go find him. Maybe. Or just leave. I don't know anymore."

I step back and offer him a small smile before he walks off behind me. When I'm standing alone in the middle of the kitchen I start to look around, wondering where Santana is. I thought she had followed me in here but I completely forgot about her the moment Sam surprised me.

"Behind you," I hear over my shoulder. I jump, having been startled yet again, and I immediately turn around.

"How did you even know I was looking for you?"  
>"Just a hunch" she shrugs. "Beer?"<p>

"Oh god, please no. I'm sick of beer. I need something a little more stronger and a little more smoother," I say, overwhelmed by my previous conversation with Sam.

She laughs at me, "I agree. Come here."

She grabs my hand and everything stops. The whole room goes blank and quiet and I am completely focused on Santana.

"Where are we going?" I manage to get out, wondering where in the world she was dragging me.

"The bedroom," I gulp. _The bedroom? _"Puck hid his liquor in one of the back rooms. We're gonna go steal it."

I realize then that I had been holding my breath since she mentioned the bedroom. I let out a sigh of relief. _Breathe, woman._

We make our way to what I'm pretty sure is Finn's room. Once inside, Santana shuts the door behind her. If anyone at the party was paying any attention to us, they'd probably be thinking Santana and I were about to get it on right now, and then, silly me say's just that.

"If anyone at the party was paying any attention to us, they'd probably be thinking you and I were about to get it on right now."

I close my eyes hoping she isn't too freaked out by what I just said. I'm so embarrassing sometimes.

When I don't hear much of anything I open my eyes and I notice Santana, bent over, laughing so hard she can't even breathe. Her laugh and her smile were just so infectious; I couldn't help but do the same.

"You think I'm ridiculous, don't you?" I ask, hoping she was laughing with me and not at me.

"Not at all. I wish I could spend a day in your brain, it's kind of fascinating to me."

I see her make her way to the closet, giving me enough time to check her out without her noticing. She's wearing an exquisite, little, black dress. It hugged her body so tight it exposed all of her wonderful attributes, mainly her butt and her breasts. I'm sure all the boys here were lusting over her. I look down to her legs and realize they were actually my favorite feature. They were so long and beautiful.

She finally turns back around, pulling out two bottles from behind the closet door. Absolut and Patron.

"Pick one," she says, and I get more and more nervous the more I think about it. If I get too drunk tonight, the chances of me doing something I will regret are close to a hundred percent. _Live a little._

"Tequila. Definitely, tequila."

"Excellent choice," she smirks as she hands me the bottle of Patron and turns back around to put away the bottle of Absolut. "Shoot, we need shot glasses."

"I'm on it," I say, almost immediately.

I leave the bedroom, closing the door behind me, and make my way to the kitchen. I start rummaging through all the cabinets looking for shot glasses, when I feel a light tap on my shoulder. When I turn around, I see Noah, a sly smile crossing his face.

"Where'd you run off to? I've been looking for you everywhere."

I can smell the alcohol on his breath. _He's wasted._

"I've been here. Lingering," I say, not wanting to expose my secret hideout with Santana. "Hey do you know where the shot glasses are?"

Rather than answer me, he simply turns around and makes his way to the fridge, opening the freezer door and pointing to the shot glasses.

"Perfect," I say as a wide smile crosses my face.

"So was that your boyfriend I saw you with before?"

I start to think back, wondering who he was talking about, but I draw a complete blank. "Who?"

"Blondie. Big lips. Looks like he could fit a million tennis balls in his mouth."

I laugh. "No, that's just Sam. My best friend. Well, ex best friend I guess you could say."

"So you're single then?"

I don't know what to say as soon as he asks the question. I don't want to lie, but I also don't want him to think he stands a chance. He doesn't, and he's going to have to take a hint eventually.

"Noah, for the last time, I will not go out on a date with you. It's inappropriate."

"Why are you so convinced I'm asking you out?" he bites back. "Whose to say I'm not just trying to strike up a conversation with a friend here. I'm just trying to get to know you, _Brittany._"

"Right well, I have to go." I shrug, making a mental note to avoid Noah at all costs from now on.

"Leaving the party? Already. Santana is hardly drunk enough yet."

I raise my eyebrows, questioning. I'm not entirely sure what point he was trying to make, but I just shake my head, deciding I don't really care at this point.

"I'm not leaving the party, I'm just leaving you."

I feel bad saying it, almost like I'm being rude for no reason, so I'm happy when he starts to laugh. At least he has a sense of humor about it.

I grab the saltshaker and a knife off the counter and head to the fridge to grab limes. _They better have limes._ I pump my fists in victory when I find them. I quickly grab the shot glasses from the freezer and start to make my way back to the bedroom.

I walk in, and close the door behind me. When I turn around to face Santana, I see her sprawled across the bed.

"Tired? Already?"

She yawns and mumbles something I can't quite make out.

"I played like six games of beer pong before you even showed up to the table. That much beer would get anyone sleepy."

She sits up as I start to make my way to the bed. I sit on the edge and set everything on the nightstand next to the bottle.

"What took you so long?"

"Noah was…" I stop myself from saying anything further. Noah was her friend, so I shouldn't say anything bad about him. "Nevermind."

"If Puck bothers you, just let me know. I'll take care of him," I grin because it sounded like she was trying to protect me from Noah and his mischievous ways. It was cute.

I hand her the bottle, asking her to open it, and turn back to the nightstand and start cutting the lime into thin slices for us to use.

"So how do you know Finn?" I ask, curious as to how we've never crossed paths if we seem to share the same group of friends.

"Through Puck. He joined their band like a year ago."

"Puck was Sam's replacement?"

She looks at me, eyebrows raised, when I say it. "Whose Sam?" she asks. "Never heard of him."

"Big-lipped, blondie. He used to be in the band, until he skipped town," I say, handing her the glasses for her to pour the shots in.

"If your friends with all those guys, how come I never see you at any of their gigs? I'm usually always there and I'm pretty sure I would have noticed you."

I stop and think for a second. Truth is, while Blaine, Finn and Artie were some of my good friends, I completely stopped going to their shows once Sam left. For some reason, I could just never get used to the idea of the band with him. It bummed me out, and I hated being sad. Going to those shows would just be a reminder that Sam was gone.

"With Sam gone and Artie and I having just broken up, I didn't really see the point in going."

"You and wheels used to date?"

I laugh at the nickname. Wheels. It was clever. I was starting to like Santana more and more.

She hands me a shot and I turn to the nightstand to hand her a lime, which she refuses. I look at her, wide eyed, before she clinks our glasses together, signaling for me to take my shot. I try my best not to suck on the lemon, but it burns my throat so bad I have no choice. I contort my face in the most awkward way, but I don't feel bad about it once I hear Santana giggle. I'd do just about anything to hear that laugh again.

"We were together for almost three years," I barely let out, still trying to get the sour taste out of my mouth.

"Hmm…" is all she manages to get out. I give her a quizzical look, not sure what she's implying. "Don't take this the wrong way," she says, quietly rethinking what she's about to say. "Artie always struck me as kind of a, hum… well. A douche. A sexist, douche."

I laugh at the idea of me being offended by someone calling Artie a douche. "It's kind of why we broke up," I blurt out. "I get that I can be a little slow sometimes, but I'm not a two year old and I hated being treated like one"

I start think back to my relationship with Artie. Sure, he became a little unbearable towards the end, but they were still a great three years and we were still sort of friends for the most part. At the end of the day, Artie meant well and I couldn't hold that against him.

I zone back in, and notice her pouring another round of shots. "More. Already?" I yell out, surprised she was willing to take another shot so quickly after the first. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't already feeling the effects of the first shot.

She shoots me a quick smile before responding. "Well, I thought we could take a quick one and toast to shitty ex boyfriends."

I didn't want to take another one so quickly, but I sure as hell didn't want her to take one alone. That wouldn't be polite.

"Okay. If I'm drinking for Artie then who are you drinking for?"

She shrugs her shoulders, unsure of what to say it seems. "Puck will do, I guess. Even if we did break up like five years ago."

"You dated Puck?" I yell, completely surprised by her admission. "You're kdding, right? You're too hot for him."

She laughs again and I give myself a pat on the back for making her do so.

"He's not that bad," she says as she hands me another shot. "The more you get to know him, the more he grows on you. I wouldn't have agreed to live with him if he was so horrible."

I started to wonder if maybe I was judging Puck too harshly. Maybe he wasn't so bad like Santana said. I clink our glasses together, making sure to pick up another lime from the counter. This shot goes down a lot smoother than the first, but it still burns nonetheless. I have no clue how the brunette in front of me is able to down her shots without limes to mask the taste.

"You're a champ you know that. I don't know how you can drink tequila without any training wheels."

"Years and years of practice," she says sheepishly.

The room gets quiet. I'm too busy staring at the beautiful brunette in front of me to even process words, but why was she so quiet? I open my mouth to speak, when she interrupts me.

"Is this okay," she says, motioning between the pair of us. "I mean, you and I drinking. Together. Is this okay?"

"I…" is all I manage to get out before I close my mouth, not entirely sure what to say. I didn't understand the point of her question. Why would it be wrong for us to drink together? We were just friends. "Why wouldn't it be okay?"

"You're my teacher," she responds back quickly. "Wouldn't it be unethical or something."

I smile. Sure, maybe she was looking out for herself and didn't want to get in trouble for fraternizing with her TA, but I'd like to think that maybe she was looking out for me too.

"Well, I'm just your TA. And I'm still an undergrad. The school would be crazy to think I wouldn't associate with students my age."

"Yea, but if we're friends, which I'd like to be, won't Dr. Schue think that your just giving me my grades?"

I know I'm supposed to respond because she asked a question, but I'm too hung up on the fact that she said she wantedto be my friend. Truth is, from the moment I met her I wanted the same thing. Maybe more, but my brain travels at such ridiculous speeds that trying to make sense of my feelings at the moment would only confuse me even more.

She opens her mouth to say something, when her phone rings suddenly. We both jump, not ready for the sudden noise. She turns to the nightstand and makes a motion to grab her phone when she sits back on the bed suddenly, deciding to just let it ring.

"Aren't you going to get it?"

She shakes her head, "It's just Quinn. I'll talk to her later, I'm good right here."

I smile at her the moment she says it. Glad to know I'm not the only one enjoying each other's company.

"Whose Quinn?" I was curious as to who exactly Quinn was, this having been the second time Santana has mentioned her.

"Puck's girlfriend," she says, handing me back the shot glass

I freeze when she says it. Puck has a girlfriend and he has been insisting that I go out with him. Clearly, he's just a player. Maybe Santana didn't know him as well as she thought she did.

I turn towards the door when I hear it open, all the noise from the party rushing inside the room. "Santana," is all I hear from the beautiful blonde standing in front of us as she tries to catch her breathe. "I've been looking everywhere for you."


	7. Let Me Go

**Chapter 6**

The moment the words leave his lips, everything goes black. I know he's still talking, I can see his lips moving, but what exactly he's saying, I'm not entirely sure.

"Excuse me," I blurt out as I try and walk away as fast as I can. I need air. I need to clear my head. _I need Santana._

I start looking for her frantically, asking everyone and anyone if they've seen her. I stop dead in my tracks and start to look around the room by spinning in around in a circle. Both Santana and that girl Brittany are missing. My heart drops.

I look around some more before I notice Finn's annoying, new girlfriend singing karaoke with Blaine. If I wasn't on a mission I'd probably enjoy their performance, but I need to find Santana, and if I'm going to find her, I'm going to need to find Brittany first.

I walk up to them waiting for Rachel to finish her verse before tapping her on the shoulder and asking for Brittany.

"I don't know," she whispers in my ear. "Maybe try one of the bedrooms."

I'm pretty sure my heart it is in the pit of my stomach by now. The bedroom. The one place I haven't look, which means they _have _to be there. My heart drops even lower just thinking about them in there, _together._

I zip around and head straight to the bedrooms, mulling over the latest turn of events.

"_Alright, Puckster. I think it's time you found yourself a new partner."_

_Puck puts on his best hurt face, but it's playful so you know he's just joking. He then crosses an X over his chest, signaling a broken heart over Santana's words. When she walks off to the side, he extends his hand in my direction, asking me to be his partner. "What do you say, my lady?" I grab his hand thinking, why not. I haven't played beer pong since high school. It should be fun. I steal a quick glance to my left and notice Santana start to walk away from the table. I grab her arm instinctively, wondering why she's leaving._

"_Where are you going?"_

"_Get some air. Too much beer," I nod and switch my focus to the game in front of me. I steal a quick glance while the beautiful brunette is still within eyesight. She looks amazing tonight._

* * *

><p><em>I'm grateful when Mike and Tina finally beat us after we won at least 10 times, mostly because of Puck's skills. I'm not entirely sure how many games of beer bong Puck and I have played, but I do know that it was way too many because I start to feel a little hot and my inhibitions are slowly dwindling away. I follow Puck's lead and walk with him towards the kitchen but I get a little sidetracked when I notice Blaine's boyfriend, Kurt I think is his name, arguing with some blonde boy I had never seen before. I don't mean to eaves drop, but their words just keep getting louder and louder. I take a look around and nobody else has seemed to notice, and if they do, they are all just deciding to ignore it. <em>

"_Kurt, if you'd just let me explain… Five minutes is all I'm asking you for," I hear the blonde say, trying to grab the smaller boy's hand in the process. _

_The boy pulls his hand away and shoves him instead. He starts to shout, though I don't know what he is saying because I'm instantly rushing towards them trying to keep the argument from escalading._

"_Everything okay here?" I ask as I stop right next to them. I contemplate getting in between them, but I don't want to literally get caught in the middle._

"_Yes, Sam was just leaving. Weren't you?" he says, his eyes dead set on the blonde's._

_I'm expecting another fight to break out. Instead, the blonde simply sighs, shrugs his shoulders and walks away. I stare at him out of the corner of my eyes and notice him steal a few glances from over his shoulder. There's history there, clearly._

"_Thank you," I hear him say and I turn to face him and offer him an apologetic smile. _

"_I'm Quinn." _

"_I know. I saw you at the show the other day. I could never forget a beautiful blonde with an impeccable sense of fashion," I laugh, happy to know he remembers me. "You're Puck's girlfriend, right?"_

_I nod, "And you're Blaine's boyfriend."_

"_The one and only," he says, finally displaying a small smile. _

_We strike up a conversation and I realize early on that I really like this kid. He's sweet, funny, and charming. Hopefully we can become better friends. I notice Puck out of the corner of my eye, talking to some blonde girl in the kitchen. I wonder how he knows her, not because I'm jealous, but because I'm genuinely curious. She was extremely attractive. I then remember that she was the girl that kept calling Puck, Noah. I can't remember the last time someone called him that._

_Puck would never cheat on me though. As much of a douche bag as he was in high school, stringing both Santana and I along for years, he finally grew up when Beth came into the picture. Sure, we didn't keep her, but the pregnancy itself, and the depression I faced afterwards, really made the three of us mature together. _

_Sometimes I wonder if Puck cheating would actually make me feel better about this whole thing, my relationship with Santana that is. I mean, I wasn't in love with her. How can I be if I'm not a lesbian?_

_I love Puck and although I may have sex with Santana, it was just sex. "Sex is not dating," she used to say back in high school when we tried to rationalize whatever it is that we were doing. The only reason I keep going back to having sex with Santana is because I enjoy it a lot more than sex with Puck, but at the end of the day, Puck is my boyfriend and the one I'm in love with. We have a kid together for crying out loud. Santana was simply just my friend, my best friend._

_I tune back into the conversation before I feel an arm wrap around my shoulder. I know its Puck the moment I feel a small kiss on my cheek._

"_What are you two going on about."_

"_Clothes," we blurt out at the same time, giggling at our synchrony. _

"_Lame. Hey Kurt, you're roommates with Brittany right?"_

"_How exactly do you know her?" I interject, curious as to where this Brittany girl came from._

"_She a TA for that writing slash Woman's Studies class Santana and I are in."_

" _You go to NYU?" I hear Kurt say. I laugh when I notice the bewildered look on his face._

"_He's actually pretty smart. Surprising, I know," I cut in._

"_Not really, I just had the best tutors in high school that helped me get in." I laugh at the memory. Santana, Puck, and I had what seemed like a million sleepless nights to study for our classes, all in the name of NYU. _

"_Why NYU?" Kurt asks, and it's a question I never bothered asking Puck, which gets me curious._

"_I just wanted to go wherever Quinn went. Music is my number one priority, so I would be fine with any college really."_

_I smile at his admission. Puck came to New York to be with me. It was sweet and it was just another reason why Puck was too good for me. The reason's why I came to New York had nothing to do with Puck, and everything to do with Santana. NYU was her first choice and I couldn't imagine going through college without her. She was my best friend after all. I give him a kiss, not entirely sure why. Maybe it's just another way to reassure myself that I want to be with Puck as much as he wants to be with me. My heart sinks a little at the idea that that may not be true._

"_Anyway, you live with Brittany right."_

"_Yes," Kurt says right away. "We went to high school together back in Lima and we've been living together since we got to New York. We all got into Tisch, but Brittany decided last minute that she just wanted to study English."_

"_So you all sing?" I ask, curious. _

"_Yes. Well, Brittany is a dancer, a damn good one too. I don't know why she quit, though. We were all in Glee Club back then. National Champs our Senior Year." _

_I laugh at the idea of being in Glee Club. Sure, it sounded interesting, but back in our hometown, that would have been social suicide. Santana and I were Cheerios, not because we liked cheerleading, we just wanted to be on top. _

"_That sounds awesome. I wish I could sing," I say, feigning interest._

"_Santana can sing," Puck chimes in. "She's shy about it though."_

_I laugh when I think back to junior year when Santana lost a bet against Puck and he made her sign up for the Talent Show. She won, surprisingly, singing some Amy Winehouse cover. "Valerie" I think it was called. After the competition though, she ran straight to the bathroom to throw up. Nerves got the best of her._

"_Anyway, I wanted to ask you something about Brittany. Is she gay?"_

_My eyes go wide when Puck finishes the sentence. Why would he ask such a ridiculous and personal question? To the girl's roommate and probably best friend. I smack him across the back of the head, hoping to get my point across._

"_Don't be rude. You can't just ask people that." I don't know why I'm so upset. I guess I just hate when Puck is inappropriate around other people._

_I hear Kurt laugh and I turn my head to face him, "It's okay," he says. "Brittany is the last person in the world to get offended by that."_

_The more they say Brittany's name the more awkward I feel. It just feels weird talking about someone I didn't really know. I'd have to properly meet her._

"_Brittany has had plenty of boyfriends, but never any girlfriends. But, let's just say she's quite the free spirit. She'd probably be up for anything."_

"_Perfect," I hear him say, a sly smile creeping on his face. What the hell was he thinking?_

"_Puck, we are not having a threesome with Brittany," I yell almost immediately. _

_I look over at Kurt who looks physically uncomfortable now by the turn of events, and Puck just continues to laugh._

"_I wasn't asking for me, I was asking for Santana," he mumbles in between laughs. _

"_Santana? Is she the girl your always with at the shows?"_

"_Yes. She's our best friend and Puck's roommate," I tell Kurt before turning to Puck to ask what the hell he was talking about. "Oh come on, you saw how she snuck away from the beer pong table as soon as Brittany left." Was he serious? Did he really think Santana was into Brittany? She was her teacher for crying out loud._

"_Santana is not gay." I spit back. Furious that he would even say something like that out loud in front of someone who was a complete stranger to Santana._

_I feel a presence over my shoulder and I look up to see Finn standing over us, extending his hand out to Kurt._

"_I'm still mad at you Finn," I hear Kurt say. "You shouldn't have invited Sam, or you should have at least told me well in advance."_

"_I know. I'm sorry. Please, let me make it up to you."_

_I know Kurt is contemplating whether or not to leave, so I give him a gentle squeeze on his leg, letting him know it's okay._

_When he gets up and leaves, I turn my attention back to Puck, still furious._

"_Why would you say that in front of Kurt. He doesn't even know Santana," I say as loud as possible without it being considered yelling. "What if he thinks you're serious?"_

"_I am though," he snaps back defensively. "Look, Santana and Brittany have been awfully close this past week. I think there is something going on with them."_

"_Santana is not gay," I say again. This time much more louder and angrier._

"_I didn't say she was. But, who's to say she wouldn't try to coerce a grade out of our teacher. I mean, it's not like it's creepy, she's our age."_

"_Santana would never do something like that." I spit back, trying to get him to see my way. The more he talks, the angrier I get. I wish he'd just stop._

"_Look, I don't know why she's doing it, I just know that something is going on. There has to be. I went through her phone, and she has Brittany's number in there. Why would she have her number if she were just her teacher? I mean, Santana stayed after class every single day this week," he stops for a minute before chiming back in. "And I know they've been going on dates. I heard them talk about some lunch date yesterday when I stayed after class to invite Brittany to the party." _

_I immediately think back to last Friday when I went to Santana's favorite Thai restaurant to pick up her favorite meal. We had gotten into a fight that morning because I had gone to see Puck's band play instead of going to listen to her reading. I was on my way to the restaurant when I saw Santana sitting outside of a small diner with a blonde woman I had never seen before. _

_I don't know what came over me when I saw her. Maybe it was jealousy. But as soon as I saw her, I felt the sudden need to get back into her good graces. Within five seconds I had already planned an elaborate dinner for her, hoping she'd find a way to forgive me. _

_I was beside myself that night. I was anxious, generous, and full of apologies. Her face was full of confusion the entire time._

_I look back up to Puck when I hear him say, "I know they are together. They have to be."_

_The moment the words leave his lips, everything goes black. I know he's still talking, I can see his lips moving, but what exactly he's saying, I'm not entirely sure._

"_Excuse me," I blurt out as I try and walk away as fast as I can. I need air. I need to clear my head. I need Santana. _

I finally make it to the hallway where all the bedrooms are located, unsure of which one she is. I pull out my phone, silently praying Santana has her phone on her. I dial her number and try and listen for my ringtone. I hear it almost immediately, and start to make my way to the room. I put my hand on the door handle before taking a step back. She refused me call. That never happens.

I pray that I'm not about to walk in on what I think I am before throwing the door open.

"Santana," I manage to get out.

I take a look around and nothing seems out of the ordinary. The two of them are just sitting on the edge of the bed, Santana handing Brittany back an empty shot glass.

"I've been looking everywhere for you, "I stammer out.

She hands the bottle over to Brittany and gets up from the bed as a concerned look crosses her face, "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Fine. I just…" I'm not entirely sure what I should say. I didn't think to come up with an excuse to steal. "What are you doing?" I ask, pointing towards Brittany and the bottle of alcohol in her hand.

"Oh," she takes a look back towards the bed and when she turns back around, guilt is written all over her face. "We were just taking shots. Talking. No big deal. Don't tell Puck we stole his bottle. I'll never hear the end of it."

I nod and as an awkward silence creeps up and the three of us just stare in different directions. Finally, Brittany clears her throat and when I turn to face her, I see her setting the bottle on the nightstand and getting up from the bed. Suddenly, she's standing right in front of me, arm extended.

"I'm Brittany."

I stare at her hand for a little to long, unsure if I even want to take it. I look at Santana who's wearing a confused look on her face. Might as well be nice, the last thing I want is to fight with Santana for being rude to her "friend."

"Quinn," I say as I stick my hand out and grab hers. "Santana's, _best_ friend." The way I spit out the word friend, like I'm marking my territory, makes me sounds angry and ridiculous. I could care less at the moment, though. I just want to get out of here, with Santana.

"I need you," I turn to her.

"Quinn, you're scaring me. Are you sure you're okay?" she asks as she puts her hand to my forehead, trying to check my temperature.

"I uhh…" I stammer out, looking back and forth between Santana and Brittany, unsure of what to say. "I think I drank too much. Come to the bathroom with me?"

"Sure," she says, grabbing my hand and walking me out the bedroom. "I'll be right back," she calls over her shoulder, presumably telling Brittany. _I don't want you to come back._

Thankfully, the bathroom is empty. She opens the door and leads me inside. I take a few steps forward and just stand there. _Now what? _I turn around when I hear the door shut and then Santana's voice.

I start pacing, unsure of what to do. Two steps forward, two steps back. All I really wanted was to get some alone time with Santana, although I'm not entirely sure why. I wasn't jealous of Brittany, by any means. I just needed to save Santana. If Puck had already jumped to ridiculous conclusions, whose to say no one else will too?

"Quinn, are you okay?"

I stop pacing and look up at her. When our eyes meet its like someone has punched me right in the gut because next thing I know, I'm completely out of breath. I don't know what comes over me, but my body seems to be reacting faster than my brain can begin to process any sort of functions. Suddenly, my legs are moving towards Santana and I crush our lips together, cupping her face with both my hands and pinning her up against the door.

The kiss quickly turns desperate, and soon I find my hands reaching everywhere and anywhere. It's like I'm afraid of letting go of her. I don't want her to slip away from me.

At first, she struggles with me. "Quinn…" she breathes out in between kisses. I don't get why she is so apprehensive_. She was never like this before._ My stomach turns into a million knots at the prospect of Brittany being the reason behind her worries.

She keeps trying to open her mouth to speak up, but the moment she does I place my lips over hers, keeping her from saying anything at all. Finally, I feel her ease into my frantic kisses, letting go of whatever was holding her back in the first place.

She tries push away from the door but the minute she tries to move me back a few steps, both my hands are instantly on her shoulders, pushing her back up against the door. A wicked smile creeps up on my face when I see her eyebrows rise, probably surprised by how aggressive I'm being. Usually, it's the other way around.

"If we're going to do this in here, we need to be a little more quiet," she whispers. I cup her face again and she smiles as I lean in for more kisses, these much softer than the previous ones.

The taste of tequila on her lips takes my head for a spin and suddenly I've become desperate for her all over again. I pick up the pace and become frantic once more. She must sense my anxiety because next thing I know, she places both of her gentle hands on either side of my face. It's as if she's trying to calm me down, but I don't let her. _I need to feel in control. _

I grab her hands from my face and slam them up over her head and against the door before placing both her hands in my right one. My grip around her hands grow tighter as my left hand makes its way down to the hem of her dress. I start to pull up on her dress, but once it gets harder, I immediately drop my right hand for help, letting her arms rest around my neck.

At this point, my kisses have become shorter and faster. I continue to kiss her hastily and don't stop unless it's for a quick intake of air.

As both my hands pull at the bottom of her dress, I lift my right leg up suddenly, the top of my leg thrusting into her pelvis in order to provide some pressure. I thrust once more just to tease her further.

She moans in my mouth and suddenly her lips are on my neck and she's sucking right at my pulse point. Her lips feel so warm and wet against my skin and as time passes on, I feel myself getting more and more lost in her kisses. I start to lazily place soft kisses sparingly against her shoulder. They're short and soft because I'm too lost in Santana's kisses to even focus on anything else.

When I feel her nip at my neck, my whole body starts to tingle. It's like I've lost all the feeling in my limbs. First my toes, then slowly the warm sensation starts to make its way up my body towards my head and eventually to my fingertips.

I finally snap out of it and start to feel my hands and the hem of her dress within my fingertips, when I remember what it is that I was doing. Without any hesitation I simply pull the dress up over her waist with one swift motion, revealing the sexiest pair of black-laced panties. Part of me wants to take a step back and simply enjoy the beauty that is Santana Lopez. But another part of me is simply too desperate to _taste_ Santana Lopez. _I can't stop. _

I hook my thumbs and pull her panties all the way down, deciding they were to distracting and simply getting in the way of what it is I came here to do. When she steps out of them I simply throw them over my head, not really caring where it is that they land. With both my hands on her waist, I simply start to motion her towards the countertop and she follows my lead swiftly, her lips never leaving my neck. When she's finally against the counter, I don't need to pick her up because she makes that move herself. She grabs both my hands and entwines it with hers as she tries to get comfortable before she wraps her legs around my waist completely and pulls me towards her.

She drops her forehead on my shoulder, panting heavily, trying to catch her breath. I return the gesture before turning my head to face her, giving her a quick kiss on the ear. "I love you," I mumble through heavy breaths.

It isn't until she pulls her head back, hitting the mirror behind her, that I realize I said it. She looks at my, eyes wide and filled with what looks like complete shock and confusion. She squints her eyes at me, not sure she heard what she heard. I tear my eyes away from hers the moment I start to feel a tear well up in the corner of my eye.

I start to panic, unsure of what to do now. I've said these words plenty of times, but always in the context of friendship. Whenever we were caught up in our sexual encounters, it's like we had a clear understanding to never get romantic about anything. It was just sex after all and Santana knew how much I hated it when Puck tried being sappy around me.

"I…" she starts to let out before I turn to face her, our eyes making contact once again. I calm down a bit and feel the single tear run down my face, but our eye contact never falters. We stand, staring at each other for what seems like a lifetime, the silence only confusing us even more.

I don't know what I want her to say, or if I even want to say anything at all. I wonder what it would be like to here her say those words to me, and as soon as I do, the panic starts to rise once more. Part of me is ready to run when I hear a sudden knock on the door, taking Santana and I out of our little bubble.

"Santana," is all I hear from the other side of the door. I scrunch my eyes in confusion, unsure if I heard the voice properly. _Brittany? _Anger starts to form at the pit of my stomach and my hands quickly turn into fists.

Santana's hand quickly reaches for my forearm as if to calm me down. "It's okay," she whispers. "She didn't hear anything. Nobody did."

I laugh at the irony of this entire situation. Usually, I'm always scared and hesitant to go run away and hide in the bathroom or a spare bedroom, but somehow, Santana always finds a way to seduce me anyway. She always knows how to get me all riled up and sexually frustrated. And now, I'm too focused on trying to get a controlling grip on Santana that I could care less if anyone hears us or not.

I turn my heads towards the door when I hear another knock. "Santana, do you need some help in there."

"Hum…" she says as she starts to look around in panic. She looks at me and whispers a quiet "What do I do?" and I merely shrug, not really caring what she does at this point. Maybe it's better if this Brittany girl found out. Then she'd know to back the fuck off. "Sure, Britt," she finally yells and I simply roll my eyes at the ridiculous name call and walk towards the toilet, sitting down as Santana gets up off the counter and pulls her dress down.

I watch out of the corner of my eye as Santana makes her way to the door, when I realize she completely forgot something. I run up right behind her placing my hand over hers on the knob. "What?" she mouths to me, clearly frustrated and not sure as to what it is that I'm doing.

" You might want to make sure everything is in order before you go open the door for your _precious_ friend, Brittany," I mock before heading back to sit back down, crossing my arms across my chest.

She looks around, not entirely sure what it is that I'm talking about. When she looks at me to ask what it is that I'm talking about, I simply point at the spot on the floor where her panties lie. Her face turns instantly red and I can't help but chuckle, despite the fact that I'm still annoyed, maybe even angry. At this point, I'm not too sure anymore.

She walks up and picks up the garment, putting it back on underneath her dress. She starts to make her way towards me and I still haven't made eye contact at this point. She stands in front of me and I look up to her, trying my best to remain angry, which is hard to do when she's so damn close. As soon as our eyes meet, I secede and drop all my defenses.

"I forgot how hostile you were during our sexcapades in public places," she mocks before bending down to place a soft kiss on my lips. "It's hott," she winks over her shoulder as she makes her way back to the door. I can't help but smile. _She's so damn cute._

She quickly opens the door, and Brittany walks in with a glass of water in one hand, and a pill bottle in the next. "I thought she could use something."

"Pills?" I reply sarcastically. "Is that even wise with all the alcohol I have in my system?"

"You didn't throw up?"

"Not at all. Santana and I were just talking. _Privately,"_ I spit back, my tone becoming more and more hostile with every passing second.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she quickly backtracks, as she goes red in the face. "I… I just thought. I'm sorry… I'll leave you two alone."

She turns on her heals and small smile creeps up on my face. As she's making her way out the door, Santana grabs her by the arm. "Britt, it's okay. We were done talking."

_But we weren't, _I think to myself. Not only did we go anywhere beyond kissing but I had just blurted out the three most confusing words in my life because I was drunk and stupid. I clear my throat and without looking either one of them straight in the eye, I simply get up and walk out of the bathroom. I reach the living room I realize that there's only a handful of people left. _How long were we in there for?_

"You alright there?" I hear from over my shoulder. I turn to face Puck who has a concerned look plastered across his face. I give him a confused look myself, not really understanding why he's asking or what could possibly be wrong. "Brittany said you were sick," he finishes as everything starts to click in my head.

"I don't recall telling her I was sick."

"Maybe not directly, but she did say you were acting weird," he continued. "And when you and Santana locked yourselves in the bathroom, we all just kind of assumed you were throwing up in there."

"You're right!" I yell almost immediately and maybe even a little too loud due to the quick rise in panic. "I was sick. Santana was just helping me…" I mumble. At this point, I'm just trying to make sure I cover all my tracks in order to not raise any suspicions. "She was making sure I was okay."

"Well I'm glad you're feeling better, " he say's, engulfing me into a hug and placing a small kiss in my hair. "Where is Santana anyway?"

I look towards the bathroom and see them both standing in the hallway, each girl leaning against opposite sides of the wall while in the middle of a conversation. I know I have no right to be irritated, but when it comes to Santana, for reasons I can't really explain myself, I feel entitled. I know its wrong, to think of her as mine, but she is the one person I can count on and if I were to ever lose her I don't know what I'd do.

I turn around and decide to ignore them. Santana is my best friend and the only reason I'm being so paranoid is because I have alcohol in my system. If I were sober I would be in no way intimidated by Brittany. Her and Santana just met while I've been in her life for over six years, so I have nothing to be worried about.

"Lets play spin the bottle," I hear that Rachel girl scream at the top of her lungs, causing everyone to screech in excitement. I'm still a little tipsy, which means spin the bottle is right up my alley. Everyone starts to gather up in a circle, when Rachel turns to Finn, "Oh, could you please get me a blanket, I don't want to sit on the floor," and when he nods his head and heads to the bedroom, I roll my eyes. _How could I have ever been in love with him?_

I notice Santana and Brittany pick a spot on the floor next to each other, which only kicks my feet into motion. Before I know it, I'm dragging Puck to the circle where everyone is sitting, and plant myself in between the two girls. I place Puck on my right, in between Brittany and myself. Not only do I not want Brittany next to me, but I want to place as much distance between her and Santana as possible. When I turn to my right, I notice Santana eyeing me, eyebrows raised. I simply wink and lazily place my head on Puck's shoulder, playing it off like I'm too drunk to know what I'm doing.

Finn returns with a blanket for Rachel and an empty beer bottle, prompting the start of the game. The first couple of rounds are pretty uneventful. Finn starts off and gets Tina, which only makes everyone laugh because Finn goes red like a tomato. Tina then lands on Artie who then lands on Kurt. Everyone else stares around at everywhere except the two boys, but I'm too interested in what is about to go down to look anywhere else. Kurt finally ends the awkwardness when he gets up from his spot and walks over to Artie and places a small kiss on the cheek. The rules of the game may be mouth to mouth, but everyone seems satisfied enough to move on.

Kurt then spins and the bottle lands on me. Feeling a little gutsy, I waste no time and make my way on over to Kurt taking his lips with mine. I hear everyone start howl in excitement, which only gives me the courage to keep going. I suck on his bottom lip for what seems like forever, and as I pull back, I gently run my tongue over it. "Thanks for that," I say before I retreat back to my spot in the circle. Both Santana and Puck have their eyes wide, shocked that I had the balls to do such a scandalous act.

"I won't lie, that was actually pretty hot," Puck says, placing a small kiss on my cheek.

I reach for the bottle and spin it, not really concerned on who it lands on after the spectacle I just put on display.

The bottle stops and I hear a few snickers come from the mouths of Finn and Puck which prompts me to look up from the bottle immediately. _Rachel Berry._ I'm not entirely sure I even care that I have to kiss Rachel but when I feel Santana shift uncomfortably next to me, I decide that it's a blessing in disguise. Santana was jealous and I was going to take full advantage of it.

I go for it and surprisingly enough, Rachel returns my advances. I bring my hands to her face as I deepen the kiss while she wraps her hands around my neck, pulling me in tighter for the kiss. I feel her tongue against my lips, as if she's asking for permission, which I happily grant her. At this point, it's an ongoing battle between our tongues as both of us are fighting for dominance. I place one of my hands to the back of her head and twist my fingers in my hair. The louder the boys yell, the more aggressive Rachel gets which only excites me more. Desperate for air, our lips part but only a few inches. I glance up from her lips and notice a distinct look in her eyes. Almost like she wants to go at it again.

"How drunk are you?" I hear Finn say from behind Rachel. She pulls back immediately and turns to face him.

"It's a game Frankenteen. No need to be so jealous," I hear Santana snicker from behind me, which snaps me out of my stupor. While everyone thinks this is just Santana's way of laying it on Finn yet again, I know better. She only lashes out when she's upset over something. I make my way back to my side of circle feeling accomplished. Santana was jealous.

Rachel then takes her turn and lands on Puck. She kisses him as eagerly as she kissed me, which only means that she really was as plastered as Finn thought. When Puck takes his turn, the whole room goes silent as he lands on Blaine. Kurt, on the other hand, lets out an uncontrollable laugh.

"As if, Puck won't kiss him! No straight guy has the balls," he says in between laughs.

"I resent that, lady," is all Puck says as he makes his way over to Blaine, grabs his face and pulls him in for a kiss. Sure there's no tongue, but it's a kiss nonetheless and its more than any other guy in this room would do.

"Nobody calls Puckzilla a coward," he says, pointing to Kurt.

Blaine, still shocked by what just happened finally snaps out of it when Kurt nudges him, informing him it's his turn. He lands on Brittany and they give each other a stupid little kiss, almost like a kiss you'd give your grandmother. It was boring.

I'm not really paying attention when Brittany takes her turn because I really don't care who the bottle lands on. Regret washes over me the moment that bottle stops and I look up to see who's on the receiving end. _Santana. _

While all the boys are cheering for them, I notice that both girls look visibly uncomfortable. Even underneath the makeup, I knew Santana was blushing. I would know because I always find that little squint in her eye as her mouth pulls into a tight-lipped smile to be the most adorable thing in the world though. This time though, the fact that she wasn't blushing over something I said or did drove me up the wall.

Brittany scoots towards the middle of the circle to get closer to Santana before she stops in front of her. Brittany reaches up to Santana's face, pulling a strand of hair behind her ear before letting it rest on her cheek. As she leans in for the kiss, I curl my fingers, forming a fist and trying my best to look away. But I can't. My eyes are trained on them the entire time, squeezing my fist harder and harder with each passing second in order to contain my anger. While my kiss with Rachel was rough and extremely frantic, this one was soft and sweet, making the kiss that much more intimate. Brittany pulls away first and both girls stare at each other while everyone else cheers and claps.

I turn to Puck and whisper softly in his ear, "All this kissing is making me extremely _horny_," I smile when I feel him shift, knowing I'm getting to him. "Let's go home, now."

He stands up and gives me his hand to pull me up when he turns to everyone in the circle who is now visibly confused as they stare at us. "We're leaving," he says as he clears his throat. He then turns to Santana, "Do you think you can get a ride?"

"Sure," she says softly.

Puck makes his way to Finn's room to grab all of our stuff and the entire time Santana and I simply stare at each other. She knows I'm angry about something, but she doesn't know what, and to be honest I'm not sure I know either. The curiosity in her eyes cuts deep and brings me back to what just happened in the bathroom. _I told her I loved her_, and given the jealous rage I was feeling at the moment due to her kiss with Brittany, I was starting to think maybe I meant it.

_No. You are not gay. You are drunk and emotional. _

I feel Puck's hand on the small dip of my back and I flinch, breaking away from my thoughts. "Ready to go?" he asks, to which I simply nod.

He leans into Santana and whispers something in her ear. Something along the lines of "Can I maybe have the place to myself tonight?" I'm not too sure she full understood what he said since her eyes are trained and focused on me. I know what she's asking me and I respond immediately by nodding my head. Yes, I want to go with Puck. Yes, I want you to let me go.

She nods, and with that, Puck grabs my hand and leads me out the door.


	8. Surprise Me

**A/N : I know it's a short chapter. It was supposed to be much longer, but I figured i'd update since you guy's have waited so long already. **

**School is sort of kicking my ass at the moment, so I barely have any time to write. But I promise to have the next chapter up (which is really the second half of this chapter) by the end of the weekend. **

**It's a strictly Brittana chapter, which I'm sure you guys will enjoy after all the Quinntana drama.**

**Enjoy and review!  
><strong>

**Chapter 7**

I wake up a little disoriented, not really knowing where the hell I am. I look around the room and nothing seems familiar. My mouth feels incredibly dry so I decide to get up and look for a glass of water. I stand up from the bed and notice two things. First, I am completely naked, minus the boy shorts I have on. I have no clue whose they are, but they are definitely not mine. Second, I'm not alone and I can barely notice the set of blonde hair poking from underneath the covers. _Where the hell did Quinn bring me?_

I get up and reach for the first set of clothes I can find, which is a black tank top laying in the middle of the floor. I leave the room, closing the door behind me and leaving Quinn asleep, and try to find the kitchen. The apartment is small, but quaint and cozy. Whoever lives here clearly has a thing for interior design.

I find the kitchen and head to the sink, turning on the faucet to splash some water on my face. I start looking through all the cabinets hoping to find cups and maybe a bottle of Advil to help relieve the pounding headache I have right now. I don't find any medicine, but I at least find some cups so I just pour myself some water from the tap.

"Santana!" I hear from right outside the kitchen and I turn around immediately, completely scared by the sudden yelling.

"What… I mean. Rachel?" I say, confused by her sudden appearance. "What the hell are you doing here, hobbit?"

"I live here, remember?" I try my hardest to suppress a laugh because at this point she has her back completely turned to me, and her hands are completely covering her eyes. "Why are you… so naked? Where are your clothes?"  
>That only sends me into a laughing frenzy, "I am wearing clothes, Berry, quit being such a baby."<p>

"I am not. Can't you at least put on some clothes?" she adds from behind her shoulder. I ignore her and head to the sink to pour myself some more water.

I hear a door open behind and turn around to see who it is, and out walks Brittany, in less clothes than I'm in, "Quit nagging Rachel, it's not like you've never seen a naked girl before," she says as she rubs her eyes with both hands.

If it weren't for her bra and underwear, which are both black lace, Brittany would be completely naked. I can't help but let my eyes wonder. First up her legs and then to her stomach, which is ridiculously toned for a girl. She must work out because there is no way one can just look like _that._ I don't think I had ever seen a more perfect body.

"It's the kitchen, Brittany," she says, finally dropping her hands from her eyes and ready to throw a temper tantrum. "Nobody should be naked in the kitchen!"

Brittany simply laughs and walks right past her, heading in my direction. At this point, I realized I haven't taken a single breath since she walked out of the bedroom. She stops in front of me, and my breath hitches when I realize how close she is. She grabs my cup and takes a drink from it.

"Take a cold shower," she adds as she puts the cup back in my hand. "It'll help with whatever sexual tension you need to... _unwind." _She throws a wink in my direction as she says it andI snort so hard I can feel the water coming out of my nose.

"That is not what I meant!" she yells, which only makes me laugh harder. She turns and marches to her room, stomping her feet as loud as possible as if she were a 5 yr old girl who just go scolded by mom and dad. When she stops at the door, she turns to face Brittany and I, "If Finn and I are taking things slow its because last time I rushed things all I did was end up with a broken heart. _Remember?" _

With that, she turns and disappears into her room, making sure to slam the door as she closed it. I still have half a smile on my face, amused by Rachel Berry and her dramatic antics, but it drops the moment I turn to look at Brittany and see her expression. She's visibly torn and I'm not sure why she was upset. She was joking and Rachel was just over reacting per usual.

"Are you okay?" I ask, hoping not to overstep my boundaries.

She looks at me and shrugs. "I…" she pauses, unsure of what to say. I don't push her because I want her to know that I'm there for her and she can trust me. "I should go talk to her," she mumbles as she makes her way to Rachel's room. "I'll be right back."

I pour myself some more water and decide to head to the bedroom and wake up Quinn so we could leave. Even though I had a hangover from hell, I still needed to make it to my lectures. Brittany was my TA after all, and skipping was probably not a good idea.

When I walk in, and all I see is the blanket on the floor and an empty bed, I make my way to the connecting bathroom thinking Quinn was in there, but she isn't. I stand in the middle of the room and take a look around, noticing a couple of picture frames on the dresser. I step closer and when I finally see who's in the picture, I drop my cup at the sudden realization that this is in fact Brittany's room. I quickly turn back to the bed, visualizing what I had seen earlier when I woke up. The blonde set of hair didn't belong to Quinn, it belonged to Brittany, and I had woken up _completely_ naked.

I feel a sour taste in my throat and run to the bathroom when I realize that I'm about to be sick. I rush to the toilet, throwing the lid open as fast as possible and throw up. The bitter taste in my mouth is nothing like the horrible feeling I have in the pit of my stomach. I had sex with a girl. A girl that wasn't Quinn, and even if people didn't know about Quinn and I, they were going to think I was gay just because of my little indiscretion with Brittany.

_Maybe Brittany wouldn't tell anyone._ More bile comes out of my mouth and into the toilet when I realize that big-mouthed Berry knows I came here with Brittany and was most likely going to tell anything with ears.

I continue to vomit, trying hard to remember a thing from last night, but nothing comes to mind. I feel a hand on my shoulder and jump up, scared by the sudden touch.

"Are you okay?" I hear Brittany say softly.

I shake my head while its still in the toilet, "I'm sick," I say, but I doubt she heard it since it's barely above a whisper. I stick my head up and turn to face her, "Why can't I remember a thing from last night."  
>"You drank a lot last night. I tried to stop you, but you seemed upset about something after Quinn and Puck left."<p>

Quinn had left with Puck, and the moment she says it, flashes start to cross my mind. I remember playing spin the bottle and Puck and Quinn leaving in the middle of the game. Puck wanted the place to himself. I turn my head back into the toilet when I realize that Quinn went home with Puck to have sex with him and she did it to spite me. I may only remember bits and pieces of last night, but I vividly remember the look on Quinn's face as she was leaving. She was mad at me about something and I don't even know what.

"I'll go get you some ginger aisle" I hear over my shoulder as Brittany makes her way out of the bathroom.

I flush the toilet and decide that I'm done throwing up. My stomach feels as hollow as ever, there is no way I could throw up any more even if I tried. I head to the sink and rinse my mouth out, hoping to get the bitter taste out of it. I dab some water on my face, but it doesn't do much. I still feel extremely hot due to the tremendous amount of weight clouding over me. How was I going to explain having sex with Brittany to anyone? To Quinn?

I look up at the mirror and as my eyes wander around the bathroom, I remember more from the night before and feel my eyes well up at the memory. Quinn had told me she loved me in the bathroom last night and it was something I had been waiting to hear for what seemed like a lifetime. She loved me.

I didn't even notice Brittany enter the room until I see her reflection in the mirror. I turn my face away because I don't want her to see me cry. "Are you okay…" she whispers so lightly I barely even hear it. _No _I want to say. I want to talk to Brittany about what it is that is driving me crazy, but I can't bear to open up. Ironic, I've known this girl a week and I want to tell her everything because for some reason, I trust her. I trust her more than I've ever trusted Quinn or Puck. Something told me that Brittany would never judge me the way the rest of the world would. She would listen and she would tell me what to do. She would make me feel better.

I open my mouth, willing myself to say something, but nothing comes out. I sigh and slump my shoulders in resignation, because once again, I close myself in. "I'm fine," I say, lying through my teeth. I look at her reflection in the mirror and the moment our eyes' meet, I know she can see right through me. I've never felt so vulnerable before in my life.

"I'll give you a minute," she turns to leave, leaving the cup of ginger aisle on the counter and heading for the bedroom.

"Brittany…" she turns back to face me but doesn't say anything. She just stares at me as if to let me know that I don't have to say anything at all if I don't want to. I want her to say something, to beg me to open up. Maybe all I need is a little push, because right now I feel completely naked standing in front of her not being able to say a single word.

I take a deep breathe, reassuring myself that it'll all be okay. "Last night…" I breathe out as I look down at her feet, hoping she understands my meaning and will just finish the sentence for me. But she doesn't speak and as much as I want to look her in the eye, I'm too scared to look up. "Brittany, what happened last night?"

"I…" she starts but doesn't finish, causing me to finally look up and meet her eyes. I'm not entirely sure what I was hoping to see, but I was completely caught off guard by the look of confusion she was giving me. "What do you mean?"

"I don't really remember anything…" I struggle, praying she starts to understand what it is that I'm talking about. But still, she dawns this confused look and she just stares back at me like I have ten heads. "When I woke up, I…"

"Santana! Spit it out," she shot back.

"Did we have sex!" I finally yell and I'm almost positive that everyone in this apartment hears me. I try to read her reaction but I'm not getting much of anything. She just stands there, looking down on the floor, deep in thought. Suddenly she looks up at me, and begins to stare back and forth between the bedroom and me.

"What? Why would you think that?"

"When I woke up this morning…" I take a deep breathe, trying to calm myself down. "Brittany. I was completely naked," I say, and start to motion to my outfit. "This is not my shirt and these are definitely not my boy shorts."

Brittany just stands there, a giant 'O' forming on her face. I don't expect the following reaction from her and I'm not entirely sure if I should be relieved or not, but next thing I know, she just bends over, clenching her stomach and laughing.

"Britt, this isn't funny," I say angrily.

"I'm sorry. It's just…" she stares back at the bedroom before looking back at me, trying to catch her breathe from all the laughing. Next thing I know, she just punches me in the arm. "God, Santana you scared me! I thought I did something to offend you."  
>This time I'm the one wearing the confused look. "Why would you think that?"<br>"I have no clue," she says, sighing in relief. "I walked in here and saw you practically in tears. What was I supposed to think?"

I open my mouth and quickly shut it, unsure of what to say. I breathe and speak softly, "Britt, you still didn't answer my question," I whisper softly, hoping to get the conversation back on track.

She smiles and for a moment I feel a huge weight lifted off of my shoulders. Brittany seemed so calm and confident, and if she could be, why couldn't I? _It'll be okay_ I tell myself.

"Santana, you were really drunk last night. When Rachel offered to bring you home, you yelled at her that it was the last place you wanted to be," I start to think of last night, hoping to remember anything about the end of the night, but I just draw a complete blank. The last thing I remember for sure is Quinn leaving with Puck. "Finally, we just agreed to bring you here and when I went to put you to bed, well…" she turns bright red as she pauses and I know that whatever she was about to say next was only going to embarrass me further. "You just started taking your clothes off," I blush as she says it, completely mortified. "I tried to dress you, but you just started going through my clothes and said you wanted to dress yourself and all you grabbed was that," she gestured to my choice of garment, letting out a light chuckle, which made me feel slightly better, although I'm still humiliated.

"I'm sorry…" I put my head down, hoping she isn't too upset with me for the peep show. "I don't usually get so drunk. I was having a bad night."

"You fought with Quinn. I know."

I look up, wondering how much she knew about Quinn and I. "How do you know?"

"You were clearly upset last night and every so often you mumbled something about stupid Quinn and Puck. I guess I just put two and two together," next thing I know I feel her arms around me. I stiffen at first, Brittany is still walking around wearing way less than I was, but eventually I relax and sink into the hug. It was comforting. "It'll be okay."

"Thanks" is all I can say, not really in the mood to elaborate further or even think about Quinn and I. She and I had a long conversation ahead of us. How does she go from declaring her love for me to leaving with Puck?

We stand there for a little before I break the silence.

"Britt, I get why I'm not really dressed. But why aren't you?" I chuckle, hoping to lighten the mood.

"I like sleeping naked," she steps back, displaying a smile from ear to ear. "But I had a guest, so this was my compromise," she does a little spin move, as if she were a model and makes a hand motion, gesturing to her outfit, or lack thereof. My eyes go wide as I gulp. She really did have the perfect body. "I can get dressed if it makes you uncomfortable," she says, confusing my obvious turn on.

"No, no," I shake my head. "I'm not uncomfortable. It's totally fine," I smile, hoping to diffuse the tension. "What's your schedule like today?"

"Our women's lit class is the only one I have on Fridays, and Schuester doesn't even make me go."

"Why do you then?"

"You," she says nonchalantly and when my eyes go wide, I see her back peddling in her head as she puts both hands over her mouth. "What I meant was, I like listening to peoples ideas…." She stops, though I still don't understand her meaning, which prompts her to continue. "You're the only one in that class who participates in lecture, well other than Puck, and I'm not really that interested in what he has to say," she shrugs her shoulders, looks down and sighs. "God, you must think I'm such a creeper…"

I laugh because it's the most ridiculous thing in the world. "Brittany," I say, waiting for her to look up at me. "I think your amazing. I've only known you a week and I think your amazing," she gives me the most genuine smile, and I swear it cures my pounding headache right on the spot. "Now I'm the weird one," I say sarcastically.

"Even during your drunken strip tease, weird was the last thing that came to my mind," my face goes red, though by her laughter I can tell she's just joking.

"Well," I struggle to send her a quip back. "… How could you find me weird when I'm so hott?"

She laughs and puts her hands up defensively "No protest here."

* * *

><p>"San?" I hear her say, which knocks me right out of my thoughts.<p>

I turn to face her, unsure of what to say. I'm too busy thinking about what I'm going to run into when I go in there. What if Quinn is still in there? The last thing I want to see is her all over Puck. Sure, Puck was her boyfriend and I loved him like a brother, but the two of them together, _intimately_, made my blood boil.

"Yea?"

"Are you okay? You seem to be deep in thought…" she unbuckles her seat belt and turns in her seat completely. "Are you fighting with Puck, too?"

I shake my head. "No," I turn to face the building one more time, which doesn't really help my nerves. "If Quinn is in there, I don't want to face her," I turn in the passenger seat to face her as well, "I just, I wouldn't know what to say."

"Do you mind me asking what it is that you're fighting about?" she reaches over and places her hand on my shoulder, which I find very comforting.

"I don't even really know. One minute we are fine, the next we aren't." I think back to last night and our little moment in the bathroom, and I feel my stomach in knots.

Brittany gives me a tight lip smile, "I'm sorry. But if you don't talk to her, you can't fix anything."

"There is no talking to Quinn. Usually, I just have to wait it out, " I sink into my seat as I think back to all the other fights we've ever head. Whether they were my fault, or hers, I would always be the one to apologize. In fact, I'm pretty sure last week was the first time I had ever heard the words 'I'm sorry' leave Quinn Fabray's mouth.

I start thinking back to this past week and how crazy it has been. First, Quinn cooks me dinner and spoils me rotten all weekend. Then, she tells me she loves me, as we're about to have sex. Sure, she was drunk, but I've been around a drunk Quinn many a times, and I've never heard her say anything so sweet before in my life.

"Do you wanna get out of here then?"

"But, we have class?" I say, confused. "I came here to get my books so we could drive to class together."

"Like I said before, you're the only reason I go to class, so if you don't go, why should I?"

A sly smile creeps on my face, "Miss Pierce, are you suggesting I skip class?"

"Yes, but if you tell Schuester, I will deny it!" She turns in her seat and puts on her seat belt. "Where to?" she asks as she shifts into drive.

"Surprise me."


End file.
